


Durin's heirs

by VereorInHell



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo being a little knowing shit, Bilbo x Thorin - Freeform, But also not too much, Canon Universe, Dwarves making money, Elrond is so fed up, Erebor, Everyone wants a blond dwarf, Experiencing with sex, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Fíli and Kíli Brotherly Love, Fíli gets taken for a girl, Fíli x Tauriel, Gah dwarves, Gandalf knows how to make his bets, Ibun son of Mim, Khîm son of Mim, Kili x Tauriel - Freeform, King Thorin, Legolas has enough, Legolas ist Tauriel's bff, M/M, Ninja Fíli with his cool swords, Ninja dwarves, Orcs are boring, Retelling of The Hobbit, Sassy Legolas, Sexy Fili, Sorry Dain you have to wait, Speculation on love, The Hobbit References, Thorin is smarter than you'd think, Thranduil is too much, Thuringwethil's son, Vampires, Young Fíli and Kíli, fili x kili, petting, the Quest for Erebor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-07-19 16:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 72,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VereorInHell/pseuds/VereorInHell
Summary: Fíli and Kíli go on a quest. To Erebor. The house of their fathers. Where a giant, fire breathing lizard now resides, sitting on the throne of the king under the mountain. Oh, and, in the meantime, the princes try to sneak in some... learning by doing experience.





	1. The Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the movie. Not a parody, but. Follows, as close as possible, as many episodes / scenes as possible.  
> Shifting POV. Some blasphemy? With Valar? IDK?  
> Durincest, at some point. Brotherly love a tons. And Thilbo / Thorbo / bagginshield

Something that both Fíli and Kíli learned fast was that, no matter how fantastic Ered Luin was: for uncle Thorin it would always pale, confronted with what Erebor had been.

That pissed off some people, who didn’t like their kingdom to be derogatorily described as ‘poor lodging in exile’. Not that anybody said a word to uncle Thorin.

Uncle Thorin was uncle Thorin for Fíli and Kíli, but for everyone else he was Thorin II Oakenshield, he who should have been king under the mountain, had Erebor still been a dwarven kingdom instead of a dragon’s lair.

He was, at least formally, the one and only king of the dwarven nation, and he counted much more than any other clan chief. He was the only one who could sit on the throne.

The chiefs could resent him for downplaying their land that, but they didn’t have enough authority to voice their feeling.

As many other dwarflings, Fíli and Kíli had been brought up with tales of the mighty kingdom: they knew all about the shiny halls of Erebor, the beauty and splendor of the city under the mountain, the only one that could be compared to Khazad-dûm.

Not many remained, of those who had lived and experienced directly the splendor of Erebor, but they had spread many stories, and the young generations mourned the lost kingdom as if it had been their own home.

Still, it irked Fíli and Kíli terribly, not knowing what uncle Thorin was going on about, if the stories were true, what was the exaggeration of tales ad what not.

They wanted to see the Arkenstone, and Smaug, they wanted to see if he really was so terrible as he was told to be. Didn’t it make little sense that the only one who could bask in the beauty of Erebor was the worm that had destroyed it?

They had never doubted the truth of Thorin’s words, but they were so curious. The day Thorin asked them if they wanted to join him on his quest, they immediately accepted, without the shadow of a second thought.

They would have set off immediately, too, without even telling their poor mother Dís, hadn’t Thorin wisely pointed out that, they were going to face the terrible wrath of a dragon already – no need to add a second.

Xxxx

Kíli had been called a freak all his life. He was too tall, too thin, didn’t grow a round belly even after drowning himself in ale and beer and, for Mahal’s sake, he couldn’t sport a beard, not even at his age. So much for being a Durin, a direct descendant of Durin the Deathless, forefather of the Longbeards all!

Only five years divided him from his older brother Fíli, and yet Fíli had already sprouted an incredibly long beard, as thick and long as his hair, and a big pair of moustaches. Kíli could braid Fíli’s beard already a decade ago, but he could hardly braid those three hairs, that were all he himself had!

Sometimes it made him feel like crying in frustration. He knew how vain it sounded, but he wasn't embarrassed to admit it: many other dwarves didn't care because they weren’t that much interested in having a family. Unlike them, Kíli was, and he desperately wanted children, and grandchildren around.

The problem was, he couldn’t get any, without a beard. Even female dwarves had beards, and no female dwarf would ever notice him, if they were more likely to take him for a female!

He consoled himself by thinking that, being a prince, and a Durin, he might have a chance at luring a partner in, even if he was (Mahal, what a shame!) the first and only beardless Durin ever born. Maybe his title could outbalance his lacking beard.

Or maybe not, and every noble lady would prefer Fíli to him. Not that it sounded so tragic: he could settle for nephews, instead of his own children. It really didn’t sound that bad, after all.

Xxxx

When Fíli and Kíli were just dwarflings, their father died in a raid of orcs that attacked Ered Luin.

It hadn’t been anything grand, not even from the orcs’ side, just a stupid, small raid, but still the dwarves had been caught unsuspecting, enough that some casualties had occurred.

Nobody had died because of it. Only their father.

Dís had been shattered by the news. She wouldn’t stop clutching at the dead body of her husband, and cry, torn by pain, anger and incredulity.

How was it possible that in such a short span of time she had lost first her home, then her grandfather and her brother, then her father, and now even her husband? And how could it be fair for a capable warrior like the father of her sons to die under circumstances so distant from the heroic death he deserved? Why had he died, when nobody else had even been injured?

She cried and screamed, her body shaking with rage and pain and frustration. She clutched the dead body of her husband and shouted to the gods that it wasn't fair, that he had deserved to die honorably in battle, in a real fight, not in a stupid raid, led by a bunch of orcs that had had never real chance to win.

Fíli and Kíli, too young to fully understand what death meant, were terrified at the sight of their strong mother crying in the dirt. They couldn't look at the dead, unmoving body of their father in her hands. Her knuckles paled, so hard she was clutching at their father’s shirt, and her dress grew soaked in red.

Her fury had invested her so much, she could barely see her sons. Thorin held them and they his in his arms, looking away from their mother's overwhelming pain. Then Dwalin took the two princes with him, and Thorin was left free to tend to his distraught sister.

Dís recovered very quickly after that. She had always been as strong as the stone, and went back to her usual self rather quickly.

Her children, still unsettled at first, would look at her somewhat weary, remembering the scene they had witnessed. But, other than in her smiles turning sometimes bitter, or the way she grew quiet when she had been cheerful, they felt that nothing else had changed. And it was hard to call her on what she has let change, so they didn’t. They were old enough not to.

Thorin had Dwalin start with their training almost immediately after. They weren’t even able to read and write properly, Kíli especially, as Balin pointed out. Thorin insisted, claiming that, once dead, they wouldn't have had any chance to practice their readings, anyway. Better that they knew how to stay alive. Balin yielded, but only after Dís showed up at one of their reading class with training weapons she had forged for both of them.

Fíli took to swords, axes and knives like a fish would to his own fins. Kíli eventually learned sword-fighting, mastering it just as well, but it took him more time and effort.

Fíli was a natural: sometimes he looked like the sword was a natural extension of his own arm, his knives a part of his body, just like his hands. Kíli had to think more, which was a pleasant first, Dwalin joked, since Kíli had never done anything thinking about it, before.

With his initial struggle with swords and the way he looked, young Kíli had to endure a lot of namecalling by other dwarflings, who loved to call him an elf. Kíli went from the stage where he would only cry in response, to getting into too many fights. Then, one day, Dwalin decided to teach Kíli archery.

It turned out that had been the best idea he had ever had as a trainer: Kíli was with a bow what Fíli was with a sword. All the tauntings stopped, when they saw how terrific an archer Kíli was.

And, most of all, Kíli stopped feeling the brother left behind.

Xxxx

Fíli was only five years older than Kíli.

It wasn’t much, but enough to make him Thorin’s heir, instead of Kíli. They were enough to place a lot of responsibility and expectation on his shoulders only, and demanded that he, more than Kíli, paid attention to what being a Durin meant.

He couldn’t be as carefree, or careless, even reckless. He couldn’t backtalk people like Kíli could. He had to learn patience and the art of diplomacy. And he could never, never answer with a fist when someone was calling him names, like Kíli could do.

They were also enough to make him feel responsible for his younger brother, or to make him more sensitive to their mother’s mood swings, whenever she was sad.

When their father died, Fíli learned what death was. And what responsibility that entailed.

He also understood what being an heir meant: that for him to be king, Thorin would have to be dead.

Just like his father.

When his father died, all the stories that Fíli had always loved to hear about battles and wars and armies and blood, all of them assumed a different meaning. Something ruined them forever, a sinister light.

He realized that the golden blood of glory was actually red, as red as the one that had stained his father’s shirt.

He learned that glory had a price. And that the songs that he had always assumed were for celebration, had originally been composed for mourning, too.

When Dwalin put a sword, a real one, in his hands, he understood that, to be a king, he had to be a warrior, and that being a warrior meant kill. And becoming a killer wasn’t much different from being an assassin.

He almost refused the sword, when he came to this conclusion. Then he told himself that someone must become an assassin, if it meant kill orcs and goblins and other evil creatures, to protect innocents who didn’t deserve to die.

He could make peace with becoming a killer, if he could protect people that way. He learned faster and better how to use a sword, once made peace with that.

People, Dwalin included, thought that he was that skilled with a sword because of his Durin’s lineage. But in truth it was only because he accepted the idea of becoming a killer, and that the same sword he wielded could kill him, too.

Uncle Thorin often watched them train. Fíli felt his serious eyes following his every move, and he knew that Kíli found it unnerving, doubting his own skills. And Thorin’s eyes were inscrutable, nobody would know what he who should be king was thinking, so it didn't help Kíli.

Dwalin, who knew Thorin very well, told them their uncle was watching them with pride. Fíli, instead, liked to think that his uncle knew what his heir was thinking, about blood, war songs, swords and death.

Xxxx

Kíli spent his life complaining because he couldn’t grow a beard, and people were making fun of him because, really, what was a dwarf without a beard? And one of Durin’s line!

Sometimes, Fíli threw in some names, too, instead of always blindly defending his brother and punching every name-caller in the face. When he did rarely contribute to the calling, he would do so only out of exhaustion.

Because, come on: he loved his brother, but Kíli could be vain. How could he complain of not looking like a Durin, when he looked like the seventh embodiment of Durin the Deathless?

Beside the stupid beard, he had everything a Durin should have. He looked exactly like Thorin, minus the blue eyes. Which only made Kíli all the more similar to what Durins should look like, considered that blue eyes were not an original Durins thing.

On the other hand, Fíli was Thorin’s heir, but there was little in him that made him look a Durin. Durins were tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired and with dark eyes. They had this fire inside them that Fíli had never felt inside himself, but that he could see inside Kíli.

Fíli had been petite for most his years, and only when he’d taken on training he’d started bulking up. He was sure the only reason why Kíli hadn’t yet was that the stupid idiot wouldn’t throw an axe to save his life, and preferred a much lighter bow.

It didn’t matter how big Fíli shoulders grew, and how lethal he became with a sword or an axe or knives. He was still blond, with blue eyes, and he could never erase from his mind the way some dwarves had called him ‘pretty’ when he had been younger. His long blond hair still made him look almost effeminate, even if he paired it with a fierce beard and moustaches.

No, he would never forget that he had been called elvish, too, just like Kíli sometimes still was. Kíli stressed everyone about lacking a beard, but it was Fíli, Thorin’s heir, the one who looked the least like a Durin should. It was Fíli that, even bulked up and with a thick beard, was still exchanged for a pretty maiden by drunken dwarves.

Even if everyone in Ered Luin knew who he was, it was Fíli the one that still, in the rare fights he would pick, people would call ‘pretty’, ‘princess’, ‘blondie’.

And yet Kíli focused only on his stupid missing beard. He was there, those times people would call Fíli names. He would hear them, every time. But it was as if he chose every time not to remember, as if it embarrassed Kíli more than Fíli himself, because it made Fíli go around armed to his teeth even when they were simply going out for a drink. Not because people would call him names, but because they would try to cop a feel.

Fíli was loyal, especially to his brother – he was probably more loyal to Kíli than Thorin, but, Mahal could be his witness, he wished so dearly that Kíli stopped complaining about that fucking beard at once.

Xxxx

Fíli lay in his bed, awake.

He and Kíli had been to nervous to sleep when they’d left for their bedroom, several hours before, but by now Kíli had fallen in a deep slumber.

Fíli, instead, was still troubled, and looked up at the ceiling of the room they still insisted to share.

They would leave with uncle Thorin on his quest to Erebor.

He, Fíli, who looked like a princess, and Kíli, who worried for his missing beard.

And there was a dragon, waiting for them in the house of their fathers.

Xxxx

“You better listen to your uncle! Except when he’s too stubborn to see reason. Then you should try and be the adult ones”

“Dís, you are aware that you are saying that to Kíli, too, are you not?”

“Shut up, Thorin”

Fíli and Kíli snickered under their beards, Kíli obviously leaning closer to his brother and borrowing some of Fíli’s.

Their mother went on with promises they had to make to her and recommendations, even pushed a runed stone into Kíli’s hand, and made him promise to come back.

“How come you don’t give one to Fíli, mother? Do you trust him more than you trust me?” Kíli protested.

“Nonsense” Dís answered, with her brisk tone that made everyone think that really she would have been a splendid queen: “he’s obviously less reckless than you, and wouldn’t put himself in danger just for the stupidest reason. Plus, he would never leave your side, not even for all the gold in Erebor, so, no point in wasting another runed stone”

“That, and, you don’t have another one”

“Shut up, Thorin. Go back being the insufferably serious dwarf everyone assumes you to be. And for the love of Mahal, be careful, would you!”


	2. A Most Teaching Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli undertake the first part of their journey and try to make it a learning experience, for both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come some very mild Durincest, some more brotherly love, and Fíli getting some hands-on experience on what "la Petit Mort" aka an orgasm is. True MxM in here. Although mild, because Fíli is a virgin.

Uncle Thorin left them and headed North. Fíli and Kíli didn’t like the idea of him traveling alone, but Thorin was hardly a naïve dwarfling. He could take care of himself.

“Better than yer two!” Dwalin barked out laughing.

They split up: them, Thorin, Dwalin and Balin. Easier to travel that way, gathering information and supplies they needed, and scouting what needed to be scouted.

Less chance to be spotted or being asked where they were off to, as well. They had to consider they wouldn’t be the only ones interested in Erebor, after all. And orcs were always around.

Outside Ered Luin, nobody knew Fíli and Kíli. Nobody knew they were the heirs of the kingdom under the mountain, and they run less risks of being followed. Who would be interested in two dwarven lads travelling?

Of course, Thorin, Dwalin and Balin hadn’t really thought this plan through and through, since, for the same reason that nobody knew Fíli and Kíli were Durin princes, this meant that more dwarves, drunken or not, would act on what they were seeing, and what they were seeing was a very pretty maiden with golden hair and a very thick beard, and a more willowy and elvish one, or maybe was it a very tall dwarfling?

So, some knives had to fly.

Even some men made moves on Fíli, which left both brothers completely shocked, almost horrified. It had been absolutely clear to these men that Fíli was a male… hadn’t it?

“Maybe men take male partners just as female” Kíli suggested.

“I thought only elves did that” Fíli replied with a frown.

He cleaned the blade of his knife using the jacket of the man laying prone in the dirt.

“Well, some dwarves do it, too, so, why men shouldn’t. Remember what Dwalin said?”

“Aye, I do, but I was sure men didn’t” insisted Fíli, now seathing the knife.

“Mahal knows, brother” said Kíli, shaking his head, and they set off again.

Xxxx

Fíli had shivered under some of those touches.

Mostly out of disgust, but not always. Some, given by sober dwarves who hadn’t insulted him, had left a pleasant tingle in his body.

Xxxx

He didn’t want to tell Kíli.

Kíli was his younger brother, after all. It was true, they shared a lot, and saw each other and were together in every moment of their life, but this felt embarrassing to tell.

So he planned to keep it well hidden inside his mind.

Which didn’t really work out, since his treacherous mouth blurted it out without Fíli realizing, and after, well, after was already too late.

Kíli gaped, red in his face, but then his reckless nature took the upper hand. Fíli could see the instant his brother started thinking, could see the flash in his dark eyes, and knew he was plotting something.

And to be honest, Kíli had a point.

They had never seen a female dwarf other than their own mother. They certainly didn’t know how it was to desire one, or being desired by one.

They had no idea how it felt to touch one and be touched by her. And female dwarves left dwarven cities extremely rarely, so, no chance to find out anytime soon.

On the other hand, male dwarves didn’t look too different, and many of them kept hitting on Fíli…

“But they do because they think I’m a female!” Fìli protested, suddenly as red in his face as Kíli no longer was.

“Well, then you just need to clarify you aren’t” Kíli replied.

“I mean, they would hit on you anyway, apparently, but we wouldn’t want them to find out once they have a hand down your trousers”

Fíli looked incredulously at his brother at that.

“…we?” He said in the end.

“Well, yes” Kíli replied, shrugging and looking both embarrassed and offended at having to explain it explicitly.

Or maybe he just didn’t like venturing deeper in an embarrassing topic. Or possibly both.

“You wouldn’t want to cut me out, would you? I want to know how it feels, too, but nobody is ever going to notice me beside you. The least you could do is let me watch. Plus, that way, should you need any help, I could jump in”

Fíli blushed and gaped, before deciding to just shut his mouth.

He didn’t like the idea of his younger brother learning what sex and the pleasures of the flesh were through him. And he didn’t need no rescue at all, he wasn’t a damsel in distress, even if the world seemed sure of the opposite.

But, at the same time, he appreciated the fact that Kíli wanted to protect him. They didn’t know a bloody thing about sex, but had heard stories about how orgasms could drain even the mightiest dwarf of any energy. He didn’t like the idea of laying boneless somewhere, and not being able to defend himself.

Maybe Kíli’s idea wasn’t that bad.

So he agreed.

Even if he hoped he didn’t regret knowing that Kíli would be watching.

Xxxx

“Brother, I swear. You are doing this on purpose!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are! How is it possible, otherwise, that nobody, no dwarf of all of those that have approached you, not a single one was good enough! Stop being so damn picky!”

“I’m not picky! It’s my fucking body, and I just don’t want some drunkard to touch it!”

“But, Fíli, come on! One of them must do! Why are you being this difficult!”

“You know what, you could do it yourself, if you really want to find out so bad!”

Xxxx

Kíli fidgeted and stood.

He walked to Fíli with his shoulders hunched down and a contrite expression.

“I’m sorry, Fee. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I don’t want some creeper to get close to you, and I certainly don’t want you to settle for someone who disgust you, just because I’m curious”

“It’s ok, Fee, don’t worry. I guess it’s also my fault, and I’m really not attracted to male dwarves”

Kíli smirked wolfishly at that.

“Maybe we could try men! Or women!”

“Wow. Women. Think about how huge their breasts must be” Fíli pondered, and Kíli bursted out laughing.

“Then I would have to come to your rescue, before you suffocate in there!”

Xxxx

In the end, Fíli was approached by someone.

A dwarf, a male one, surprisingly not drunk, not too young, but who didn’t look too old, either. He looked middle aged, quite pleasant, if not exactly good looking.

Most importantly, he wasn’t loud, didn’t behave like a creep, and liked to be discreet. Even if he was disturbingly fixated with Fíli’s hair, his eyes and his mouth.

Fíli had decided that, if he should settle for someone, this one would do.

Kíli almost begged his brother to change his mind, so little did he like the way the stranger would ogle his brother. He didn’t punch the dwarf in his face only because Fíli threw him the glance that meant ‘this one is ok, stop worrying’.

The stranger came from the Blue Mountain, but not from Ered Luin. Maybe Ered MIthrin?

He behaved as if he had no clue that the two travelers in front of him were the Durins prince, so he couldn’t be from Ered Luin. He offered them an ale each and invited them to a table in the corner, saying that he would love to hear someone speak his own dialect.

He asked them questions, and didn’t mind their evasive answers, answering just as elusively. It was obvious he didn’t really care about anything he asked, and that he only cared about Fíli.

He became even more obvious, when he slipped a torn-up parchment on the table, pushing it towards Kíli, insisting that he checked it out. He didn’t offer any explanation, didn’t even bother covering up the fact that it was an obvious attempt at keeping Kíli busy, inside. He motioned to Fíli to join him outside.

‘This is it’, Fíli thought, nodded, and went along.

So did Kíli, even if the stranger was too engrossed in Fíli to take notice.

Ibun (such was the stranger’s name) pushed Fìli against a wall and kissed him with a passion that startled the young prince. But, before Fíli could slip a hand to one of his knives, Ibun noticed, and adjusted to a pace that suited better the young, virginal prince.

Fíli blushed, because of the touches, because of the embarrassment at admitting he had no clue what was going on, and therefore had no power in it.

And he also blushed because of the endearments that Ibun kept whispering to his ear, that weren’t too different from the names people would use to mock him. But this time, none of those names offended him.

When Ibun called him pretty, or a precious golden diamond, Fíli didn't find it so bad, actually even liked it.

There was something, in the way he was being petted, caressed and cooed, that wasn't exactly unpleasant. The promise of pleasure to come, administered entirely by expert, clever fingers, all the while he didn't have to do anything, just relax, give in... 

The orgasm caught Fíli completely by surprise. He hadn’t anticipated its intensity, and the overwhelming nature of it, and couldn’t even start thinking about stopping or reducing the noises that Ibun was pulling out of his mouth.

He gripped Ibun's shoulders and locked eyes with the older dwarf, mouth open and eyes so wide, as if trying to ask his companion what was going on, what was happening to him. 

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning and moaning more and more, the closer he got to the peak, but it didn’t seem to bother his companion, rather egg him on.

When Fíli came, everything went black and disappeared for a moment. Then he came back and saw Ibun tucking him back into his trousers.

The other dwarf smiled eerily at him, and started rutting against his thigh, fingers buried in Fíli’s hair. His grasp on Fíli's hair became a bit too strong, a tiny bit too possessive, now that Fíli had a clear mind to think, but he didn't protest.

He held Ibun’s gaze while the other drowned in pleasure, and he thought he caught the words ‘pretty golden prince’ leaving the mouth of the stranger.

Ibun had been good to him, up to that moment, but hearing that word alarmed Fíli. Without jostling the other too much, he put a reasonable distance between himself and the stranger in a swift motion.

Kíli slipped out of his hiding place and looked alarmed at Fíli’s reaction. He brought his hand to the hilt of his sword, but Fíli raised a hand to stop him.

Ibun didn’t seem to mind Fíli slipping away, though, nor did he look surprised by Kíli’s presence.

He chuckled to himself, shoving his clothes back into place and now raking sated eyes on Kíli as well. New hunger, and something more sinister but that they couldn’t pinpoint, creeped in the dark eyes, and made the brothers really uncomfortable.

‘Too bad, that had been nice so far’ Fíli thought, with a hint of regret.

Ibun chuckled again at their defensive stance.

“No need to get defensive, my young princes” he said, still leaning against the wall.

Fíli and Kíli tensed.

“So you knew” Kíli said, almost accusingly.

“Aye, I did. And I thank you both, your majesties. You have given me a high honor, the privilege of being the first to ever touch prince Fíli” 

Fíli felt himself blush.

“One could call me a defiler, too, eh?” Ibun joked, but the sinister light in his eyes, combined with the pun that evoked Azog, made the two brothers even more uncomfortable.

“No need to be so tense, my lords” Ibun insisted again, pushing himself up from the wall: “this old dwarf means no harm no either of you. I am in debt with you, for such a privilege”

“You own us nothing” Fíli replied, serious, but still striving to adopt a tone as peaceful as he could.

This stranger creeped him out, and he suddenly didn’t look like the person he had been only a few minutes before.

Still, it was in Fíli’s nature to try and be diplomatic, if possible.

“And we own you nothing, as well” he added.

Ibun nodded. His smile was somewhat bitter, then it opened into a friendlier one.

“Aye, my lords. But I still feel very honored, and want to give you something, in exchange. Allow me, to thank you for what you have conceded me”

Behind him, Fíli felt Kíli ready to snap out in impatience, and he raised again his hand to stop him.

“What do you want to give us?”

Ibun’s smiled all but disappeared, and he looked very serious now.

“The map. Please, my lords, keep it. It looks like a torn-up thing, with no value, but do not throw it away. You might find yourselves in times and places to need it”

Xxxx

They didn’t sleep at the inn.

They didn’t sleep in an inn that night nor the night after, and the one after that, too.

They didn’t travel on the main road, taking secondary paths that were left used.

They walked the woods, even creating their own paths, until they were sure nobody was following them. Anymore.

Still, it was only when they reached the hobbit’s place and joined the others that the nasty feeling of being pursued and watched was finally lifted from their shoulders.

Xxxx

“He was a creep”

Fíli raised his eyes to the sky.

Clear blue, the sun already high: they had still quite another few hours to walk, but he found he rather enjoyed these lands, and found this the best part of their entire route.

So green, so new, and bright. Everything was infused with a light that anywhere else he, like any other dwarf, would find too bright, eyes hurting, but not here. And swarming with life.

They had seen many men already, but since that morning they had already seen some halflings, too. An odd race, that one, and it intrigued them.

"Kíli..."

"Say that I'm wrong!"

Fíli sighed, struggling for patience.

"Aye, he was a creep" he said. 

It had been nice, until he had called Fíli a prince, and it turned out he had always known who Fíli and Kíli were. And they really, really hadn't liked the 'defiler' joke.

"But at least it was worth it" Fíli added, as an afterthought.

"Yes?" Kíli asked, curious and very interested.

Fíli thought again at the overwhelming feeling of the orgasm, building up and approaching, crashing down on him, then slowly withdrawing.

He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

He wished he could show Kíli. He wished he could put that feeling into words, but he couldn't.

"Totally worth it". 

Xxxx

"Was it better than food? Better than eating a lot of good food and feeling your belly stretched out and full?"

"Yes"

"Better than ale? Was it better than drinking very good ale?"

"Absolutely. No unpleasant consequence either"

"Well, but Ibun is something I would call an unpleasant consequence. That creep"

"Mmm... I don't know, Kíli, that was specifically Ibun's problem. I guess it would be better, with someone else"

"Mmm"

Kíli looked far in the distance, and Fíli frowned at his expression, so deep in thoughts.

"Kíli"

"What"

"Give it a rest. If we find another one, we'll try again" Fíli pointed out, in his most calm and reasonable voice, which was also what Kíli would call his Durin voice, or his heir's voice.

"Yes" said Kíli, unfortunately not sounding convinced enough: "but what if we find one when we're already with the company? How would you explain it to them? To Dwalin and Thorin, especially?"

Fíli shrugged.

Ok, whatever, he really didn't look forward to such a conversation, true. But, it was possible to do something without neither one of those two realizing.

"We'll think about it when the time comes".


	3. A Hole in The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli meet the rest of the company, make acquaintance with our beloved hobbity master burglar, and songs are sung. 
> 
> Also: Kíli should really keep his mouth shut, in Fíli's opinion.
> 
> And: Fíli really hadn't expected a hole in the ground to be this... Pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If there is a key..."
> 
> Mention of Durincest. Yes, this is coming slow. Sorry. On the other hand, Thilbo / Thorbo / Bagginshield is coming in like a train.

Hobbits were weird.

Their host was no exception. Quite the other way around, actually.

Almost didn't want to let them in, and he dumped all their carefully sharpened weapons on the floor, even after Fíli told him not to. And Fíli had felt stupid for pointing out such an obvious thing. Still, it looked like it hadn't been so stupid after all. It was like this hobbit didn't even care about weapons but did about mud on carpets.

Fíli was... Fascinated with the carpets. They looked so thick and warm, but also so soft, much softer than the dwarven carpets he was used to.

And the dwelling this hobbit lived in, it was so different, but quite nice, too. Pleasant and cozy, not suffocating at all as he would have imagined a hole in the dirt to be. So different from Ered Luin's dwarven houses, yes, but, Fíli thought he could have lived in a place like this.

The food wasn't bad either, even if there was something that was obviously upsetting their host in the way the dwarves of the company were disposing of it - and really, wasn't it weird? Weren't they supposed to do that?

Fíli and Kíli also found out that they had been looking forward to meeting Dwalin again.

The older dwarf had been their main instructor in their weapon training, but in the past ten years they had seen him less and less. His presence gave them an estimation of how important this quest was, and filled them with anticipation.

"Do you think uncle will be here tonight?" Kíli asked Fíli in a whisper, while they were raiding the hobbit's larder.

"I don't see why not" Fíli answered, stopping trying to decipher what was piled up on the shelves in front of him, and just grabbing it and pushing it into Kíli's hands.

"Well, he's not here"

"So he's late"

"Yes, but why?" Kíli insisted.

Fíli sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. There, his eyes caught sight of the very apt way the wood had been polished, possibly made by different types of wood together. He watched the shades and found it all a lovely work.

"Say, brother, do you think Master Boggins has a cherry ceiling?"

Xxxx

“Lads! Come here. What are yer on about now?”

Fíli and Kíli almost startled.

Fíli had to fight against the impulse of hiding behind his back what Kíli had just pushed back into his arms. It was just innocent cheese, no need for secretiveness.

Well, maybe not that innocent looking – was cheese supposed to have all that mold? Did hobbit cheese have all that mold, or was their guest that terrible at preserving food? Dwarven cheese had never looked like that, Fíli was sure.

But, regardless. Dwalin wasn’t coming to check on them with the look on his face he would usually reserve for when they’d done some mess, only for molded cheese.

At least Fíli was fairly sure.

Still, old habits died hard.

The brothers were standing in Master Boggins’ rather large larder, with their noses up in the air.

Dwalin approached with his arms already crossed on his chest.

Kíli fidgeted, and casted a very quick and fearful glance at Fíli, just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten something they weren’t supposed to show. Fíli answered with an imperceptible shake of his head, so slow and small that not even Dwalin could have seen it.

And he didn’t: the older dwarf relaxed and smiled at them, hands on his hips. Truth to be told it was a most tiny smile, but they knew how to interpret Dwalin’s limited facial expressions.

“We are waiting for you. Unless yer have decided to go without dinner?” he asked.

They shook their heads vigorously and started walking towards the big table in the dining room, at the same time.

They were so famished, they were basically starving, and it was very, very dangerous to leave food in close proximity of Bombur. In general, it was never a good idea to leave food in close proximity of other ten dwarves, when you were famished and intended to have your fill of whatever dinner served.

“How did you lads find your way through here on time, I am so surprised!” Dwalin teased the brothers, when dinner started.

“Pass me the cheese, would you? Ohi, what do you mean? You know we are the best scouts you have ever trained!” Kíli replied, grabbing a plate of cheese that came from Bofur.

“We weren’t even late, and we travelled farther than you did” Fíli pointed out, placing an ale in front of himself and one in front of Kíli. Then he offered to Dwalin the third mug he was still holding.

“Aye, thank you. That you are, Kíli, but I still do not forget that famous time…”

“Do not tease the poor lads, Dwalin!” Balin good-heartedly interrupted his brother, and winked in Kíli’s direction.

“Has anybody seen the pheasant? I thought I saw some pheasant?” Bofur asked, looking around among the different dinner plates.

“This?” His brother Bifur inquired, raising a tray of cold cuts.

“That is smoked ham, you ignorant!” protested their host from where he was standing behind Glóin and Nori.

“Do not stand there, Master Boggins! I am sure we can make space for you as well, at your own table! Such a fine host, isn’t he, Master Dori? Do pass me a chair”

“You just want to put someone between the thief and yourself, you old greedy banker!” laughed Kíli, winking in good nature at Nori.

Glóin protested and made some noise, but Nori tipped his mug towards the young prince, smirking.

“Thief? What thief?” asked the hobbit in a somewhat alarmed tone of voice.

“Do not worry about that, Master Boggins!” Dori intervened, passing a mug full of ale to the owner of the house: “Here, do have some of this magnificent ale. I swear this is plain superb!”

“Oh, thank you, yes, I do believe this is a very fine kind of ale. It all depends on the wheat, you know?” 

Unnoticed by the oblivious, and now otherwise engaged hobbit, Nori used his right hand to bring his mug to his lips in a toast with Bofur and Bifur, while his left hand slipped into the hobbit’s pocket and came back with a white tissue.

The prowess of the thief, whose fingers did not alert their future burglar, was witnessed only by the two prince, and it made Kíli gape and Nori’s cheek and skills, but in doing so he completely forgot that he was technically supposed to swallow his ale, which was spilled into his plate.

Fíli and Dwalin laughed, and Fíli poured some of his drink into his brother’s mug, to cover Kíli’s grumbling.

“Hey, Master Gandalf, do tell us about the fireworks!” Fíli prompted the wizard.

Xxxx

“They have no manner! Why have you brought them here! Look at the state they have reduced the house to!”

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?”

“Hey, Ori, give it to me…”

Xxxx

The song was great.

Dwarven songs always were.

Fíli adored to witness them, every time. He adored to see how skilled warriors who knew how to slain orcs, wargs, goblins and many other living beings could also play music and sing and compose merry songs.

Master Baggins – that was actually the name, didn’t look so fond of it, but he eventually stopped protesting, when he was made speechless in front of the pile of perfectly safe and clean plates and silverware lying on his table.

Xxxx

The knock on the door made them all quieten.

There was only one dwarf missing, and they didn’t need Gandalf to remind them whom the knocking on the door announced.

Fíli and Kíli filled with trepidation.

Up to that moment, that had been an adventure, but it hadn’t assumed the glorious character a quest like taking Erebor back from Smaug should have had.

And meeting their future comrades in the hobbit’s house hadn’t felt particularly formal, either.

But in that knock, and in the tense silence that fell afterwards, they felt it, the importance of what they were going to do.

They looked at each other and beamed and grinned, nervous and anxious and so excited, and thought, this is it, this is really happening, we are really doing this.

Thorin appeared in the doorway, Gandalf moving to the side to let him in.

The hobbit looked intimidated at the sight, Fíli noted, possibly even appreciated the sight he looked to be so avidly taking in.

Kíli elbowed him, and Fíli turned, sharing a twin grin. Thorin was old, yes, but he still made a damn fine first impression. A second and a third too, some voices said, although they didn’t want to think about those voices too much – Thorin was their uncle, after all, and he had all but replaced their father. It would have felt like spying on a parent’s love life.

Thorin was offered a seat at the table, and the hobbit hurried to fill a plate for him. It didn’t go unnoticed that, of the many complaints that Master Baggins had raised to protest while the rest of the company ‘abused of his kitchen and food’, he didn’t utter a word now, even personally served the dwarven king.

“Must be the blue eyes” Kíli muttered with mirth into his brother’s ear.

Fíli had to bow his head slightly, to hide his snickers in his beard. Kíli was always on about the blue eyes, because it was the one of Thorin's traits that he didn't share. Fíli personally thought it was more likely to be the ‘dark, tall and brooding’ part to make the trick. He didn’t find it wise to voice the comment in that particular moment, though.

Balin asked Thorin how many dwarves had been promised by the clans in the North.

Uncle Thorin frowned even more than his usual. He tersely said that they would not receive any help from them.

The news made the company speechless.

Many forlorn eyes looked around, the feeling of disappointment, anger and incredulity clear in them.

The responsibility of their quest suddenly hung entirely on their shoulders, and they were only thirteen.

Plus a wizard, who made great fireworks.

“Well, but we have a wizard! And I’m sure Gandalf has plenty of experience with dragon slaying! Gandalf, don’t you?” Kíli asked, smiling agitated and looking frantically to Gandalf for reassurance.

Gandalf hesitated.

“We’re doomed” Fíli muttered, in a rare lapse of unfiltered, unchecked pessimism.

“We already were, lad. Now we are just more screwed than we already were” Bofur, the only one who heard him, murmured at his side.

Xxxx

It was a poor consolation, noticing that their burglar, he who was supposed to go and personally face the dragon, was the most terror stricken of them all.

Xxxx

“… Has he really fainted??”

“Come on, Dwalin, have a heart already. The lad is smaller than us, and he looks so young. He is but a birdie. He probably cannot take bad news as a normal dwarf would do”

“…You know, Balin, this sounds even worse than what Dwalin said”

“Nobody asked your opinion, Nori”

Xxxx

They found a place for the night, Fíli and Kíli.

They laid down, curling up into two balls perfectly fitting one with the other, like two pieces of a puzzle box.

They shared the pillow, but Fíli ended up using more of it than Kíli, since his brother slithered down until his head was cushioned on Fíli’s hair and beard, and really brother, must you, you will pull it whenever you move, and what are you saying Fee, I never move when I sleep, and yes, yes you do, you little spider-bitten goblin.

Bofur looked up from his resting place on the floor between the brothers’ bed and the second bed that his brother Bifur had occupied.

He smiled at them, somewhere between sympathy and fondness.

“You lads are really close, aren’t you”

Fíli stopped moving, eyeing the dwarf cautiously.

It wasn’t the worst word that had been used to describe his relationship with Kíli, but he certainly didn’t look forward to hearing nasty comments about their odd sleeping arrangement during their quest.

Kíli, on the other hand, didn’t really mind. He stopped tossing and fidgeting where he lay and caught on what had been said only when he noticed the expression that Fíli was looking Bofur with.

Then he turned, sprawled against, partially under and possibly even on top of Fíli, and asked, his head upside down: “What do you mean?”

Bifur laughed and said something so fast that the two brothers didn’t understand.

Bofur laughed at that, too, and shakes his head fondly: “He said that we’d stopped doing that after the youngest of us reached thirty. But it’s nice to see that you’re still close”

Kíli frowned: “I’m still not following. I mean, we are, but, why are you saying that?”

Fíli sighed, still holding gaze with Bofur, who chuckled at his annoyed expression.

“He is referring to the fact that you’re trying to spider-choke me, Kíli. They think we always sleep like this”

Kíli looked at him, confused: “But, why would we? We have two perfectly fine beds at home!”

“We do, but here you are” Fíli deadpanned.

“Aye, I am, where else would I be? On the floor? Why, am I suddenly no longer welcome to sleep with you now?” Kíli asked, all innocent and not even realizing how ambiguous he sounded.

Fíli just looked at him pointedly, and silently counted in his head.

“Oh!” exclaimed Kíli, suddenly all red in his face and gaping.

‘And before I even reached fifty!’

“Why would you think that!!” Kíli asked, pushing himself into a prone position.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, lad!” Bofur laughed: “It had already happened plenty of times!”

Bifur muttered something in khuzdul so fast they didn’t catch it, again, but from the way he was shaking his head nodding they figured out he was approving what Bofur was saying.

“Gross! Between brothers?!” Kíli whisper-screamed.

Fíli scoffed and rolled his eyes: “I’m so glad Balin isn’t here. He would give you a history lesson, probably” he muttered.

“Hey, I remember my history lessons, thank you” Kíli protested, sitting up and pointing his index finger first at his brother and then brandishing against the Ur brothers: “But just because Nain II used to sleep with his older brother until he got married to his wife, it doesn’t mean that I would want to sleep with my own brother, too!”

Bofur winked with his very bushy eyebrows, and shared a grin with Bifur.

“Kíli” Fíli said in his most expressionless voice, turning around and closing his eyes.

“What?”

“Shut your fucking mouth and sleep”


	4. Leaving the Shire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company leaves the Shire. Fíli stumbles into philosophy. Kíli reflects on what is an adventure. Bilbo Baggins not Boggins joins them. Bets are placed. Bofur should stop making danger sound so attractive to Fíli's very reckless younger brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durincest slow af. On the other hand: Thilbo coming in like a train.

The sun shone beautifully in the Shire.

It was incredible, the way it would light up every single blade of grass, every petal of all the flowers, and made every leaf on the trees into shimmering jewels.

It was incredibly because, how could this light be different from the one in any other land they had walked through?

Thirty leagues away from here and you wouldn’t have seen such a beauty, only a dull imitation.

Fíli had grown up close to mines, although none as splendid as Erebor, and certainly not even close to what Khazad-dûm had been.

He considered himself a good smith, as were Kíli, their mother and uncle Thorin. But he had never seen jewels so bright they would capture the light of day, and shine like a star. They had never seen the beauty of the Arkenstone, or of Nauglamír.

And yet he thought that now, seeing the sun shining so bright in the sky of the Shire, now he understood what was so special about jewels, and about very bright jewels at that. 

What he could see in that very moment was pure beauty. To witness the same beauty and light pouring out from a single jewel… 

“Why so serious, lad? Are you still thinking about the Halfling?”

Balin’s voice distracted Fíli from his reveries.

He shook his head, and smirked. 

“Absolutely no, Master Balin. I told you, we bet he will join us, and join us he will”

Balin raised one single white eyebrow. 

“You sound very sure about that” 

He wouldn’t, hadn’t Gandalf bet the same as him an Kíli.

“I have a feeling” he said, smiling enigmatically: “but I wasn’t thinking about the hobbit, to be honest”

“No? What were you thinking about, then?”

“I was thinking about jewels, and beauty, Master Balin. I was thinking that I really enjoy the view, here. Nature.. it has never seemed to me as having any appeal of any form, and yet now I must confess I’m amazed at how beautiful this landscape is”

“Aye, truly a beauty, the Shire” Balin nodded, concurring the thought.

“It made me think about some of our jewels, you know. About how some of them are said to lighten up an entire mine, a kingdom under the mountain, just with the way they shine”

Balin nodded, although it looked like a shadow fell in his eyes for a moment. But it was just for a brief instant, then the old man was nodding again and smiling his polite and conversational smile. 

“That is true. Some of the jewels of our people truly are magnificent, and as beautiful as this day” 

His answer made Fíli realize what the old dwarf must have thought for that fleeting second, and he frowned, hurrying to amend his previous words. 

“But I wouldn’t put the beauty of a jewel above my people” he added. 

Balin smiled, this time more openly. 

“Well said, lad. Well said”. 

Xxxx

Master Bilbo Boggins ‘It is Baggins, not Boggins, prince Kíli’ joined them. 

Several pouches of money moved around.

Fíli and Kíli beamed at each other, and grinned a silent thank you to the old wizard.

He winked back, and caught with one hand the pouch that was thrown his way.

Xxxx

They made camp under a big rock that could offer them shelter from any eventual rain.

They lighted a fire, Óin and Glóin fighting over who should do it, and Fíli ended up doing it.

Bombur cooked dinner, with the hobbit watching curiously and throwing in questions and tips from time to time, that the dwarven cook didn’t know whether to follow, at first, but did so anyway. The resulting dinner was fantastic, that nobody could deny.

Thorin looked troubled. Fíli didn’t like to see his uncle so troubled. He wished he could help him, take some weight from his shoulders, but he knew his uncle wouldn’t let him. Shelter him from everything and anything, that is what Thorin would always do, or at least whenever it was possible.

Then Kíli elbowed him, distracting him from his staring at his uncle, and grinned like a fool and shook his head towards where the hobbit was sitting.

Fíli grinned like a wolf: Master Baggins couldn’t be more obvious. 

He was eating up the sight of Thorin just as he had eaten up his dinner a few moments before. 

He didn’t mean to tease him, with that comment about orcs. And he would have spared himself the story about Azalnubizar, the great war between Orcs and Dwarves outside Moria, but listening in silence was the minimum he could do, after basically giving Balin the best opportunity to start the tale. 

Master Baggins listened enraptured how Thorin II became Thorin Oakenshield, his clear eyes moving from Balin to Thorin himself. 

Kíli and Fíli shared a look.

Nori sat beside them and started engraving a small piece of wood. He didn’t even bother putting up a real scene of actually being at work, he just used it as a half-cover for coming to whisper to the princes.

“Want to join the bet on how long it takes before our burglar falls head over heels for our king and declare his love?” he asked. 

Kíli and Fíli simultaneously put their hand on their satchel.

Xxxx

Master Baggins was a very pleasant type, Kíli thought.

He had never met a hobbit before, but from what he had seen while walking in the Shire, he had gathered they were quite closed and didn’t like strangers, or, in general, anyone who wasn’t a hobbit.

And even if their burglar had given them the impression of being somewhat similar to any other hobbit, that very first night they’d met him, it became obvious quite soon that he wasn’t.

Sure, he liked his life comfortable and cozy and warm, he liked food and books and probably had never travelled this far before.

He didn’t look like he had much love for ponies or riding, either, but here he was, and Kíli suspected that he wasn’t doing this all for any money, but rather for the quest itself.

He had once heard him ramble to Gandalf about going on an adventure, and had found it an idea he could definitely agree on.

Of course, he hadn’t told Fíli. Fili would roll his eyes, scoff and possibly even cuff the back of his head, complaining to Mahal about reckless younger brothers and always having to run after them.

But Kíli found the idea of being able to just join an adventure rather nice.

He would have probably done it, if he hadn’t had the actual opportunity to do so, anyway.

This quest was even better than just any other adventure.

This was glory, and Erebor, and all he and Fíli had been told and sung since they were dwarflings.

This was the future calling him, and Fíli and Thorin, too, and Kíli had a purpose. This wasn’t a normal adventure.

“Why so silent, brother?” asked Fíli, raising Kíli from his thoughts.

“Oh? Oh, nothing. I just like finally having the chance to see Erebor, you know”

He smiled.

Fíli did that thing he would often do when he was trying to act ‘adult’ and look at him with fond but condescending eyes, smiling and snorting at the same time. 

Kíli grinned at the reaction, which was so typically ‘Fíli’ that it was basically his favorite expression he’d ever seen on his brother’s face.

“You mean, if we don’t die before” Fíli pointed out. 

Kíli snorted and smiled at the same time. It didn’t come out as good as Fíli would do, but he didn’t care.

“Don’t be so negative, brother!”

“Oh, I think I will try to survive the journey, alright” Bofur said, joining their chat: “even just to be burned by Smaug right after. I really want to see the worm, too, you know? Never seen a dragon in my life” 

Kíli nodded, pursuing his face. 

Fíli cussed and glared at Bofur.

“Would you stop putting these terrible ideas into my little brother’s head? I really don’t fancy running after a firedragon to save Kìli’s ass, when he will inevitably put himself in the line of literal fire”

Kíli’s protests were covered by half the company laughing. 


	5. Learn-by-doing, the Durin's way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli pushes to know how it is. Then it's his turn to learn how some things are done. And then of course he needs to push Fíli through it again, he must know what was best. Right? 
> 
> Plus, rainy rides, adorable hobbits, and grumbling wizards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Durincest. It's getting more and more explicit people! But yes, still very slow.  
> Possibly awkwardness because these two haven't had much experience.

“I don’t think it was a stupid thing to say” Fíli protested, pouting slightly.

“Brother, even I thought it was stupid” Kíli replied with a smug smile.

“Well, so what. Maybe I have said something dumb, for once. Mahal help me, Kíli, had I been given money for all the stupid things you have said, I would be richer than the richest dwarf in Khazad- dûm” Fíli retorted, not really sulking, no, because that was a Kíli thing, not a Fíli thing.

Kíli laughed, surprising Fíli, who had obviously expected him to start protesting.

The younger prince laughed so hard he had to keep himself from falling from his pony.

Truth to be told, he had said a lot of stupid things, and Fíli was right. And he would have probably protested, anyway, at any other time.

But in that particular moment, something about his older brother was just too funny, and he didn’t feel like denying what he, too, knew was perfectly true.

“Aye, you know what Fíli, maybe you are right. I would have said it myself, hadn’t you said it first” he conceded, earning an odd look from Fíli.

His elder brother smiled somewhat bashfully, and Kíli grinned openly at him.

“Aye, I have the feeling you would have” Bofur merrily commented from where he was riding at Kíli’s left.

“It was so funny. The moment was so serious, and you just said, ‘if there is a key, there must be a door’. Truly, I thought, if this is the level of acumen of our heir, I hope he hasn’t inherited from the king we are actually following now”

“Now, Nori, there is no need to be unpleasant”

“I’m not being unpleasant, brother. And do stop motherhenning at least those who didn’t have the bad taste of being your brothers”

Dori ruffled his feather at this retort, but Bofur just laughed more.

“Peace, Nori, Dori. And really, prince Fíli, I too think it was a rather funny thing to point out. And in such an important moment” he shook his head, chuckling more: “I do hope you aren’t taking offence for this, your majesty?”

“Bofur” said Kíli, all of a sudden very serious.

The miner caught notice of the expression on the younger prince’s face, and saw it reflected on his brother’s too, riding on Kíli’s right.

“…yes?” he asked, hesitating.

“Would you please stop calling us with titles, or do we have to break your head for you to do so?”

Bofur made for answering, but stopped when he noticed Fíli’s expression, behind Kíli’s shoulder. The eldest prince and heir of Thorin Oakesnhield was looking at him with an, if possible, even sharper expression than Kíli's.

So he wisely closed his mouth, nodded, and shrugged, the embodiment of obliging.

On his right, Nori chuckled, muttering something about pigheadedness running in the veins of those who belonged to the house of Durin’s.

Xxxx

Their poor hobbit really didn’t feel any love for riding ponies, but he was trying his mightiest and best to keep up and bother them all the less possible.

Of course, riding without coat or hood, under the pouring rain, and missing a precious handkerchief – whatever that was, he had every right to complain and regret his decision to join the company of Thorin Oakenshield.

Especially because said mighty leader was all but ignoring him. Which was actually better this way, since it gave the hobbit plenty of time and occasions to ogle the king, unseen.

If only Bofur would stop tormenting the poor soul with tales of how terrible and terrifying Smaug was. Kíli and Fíli shook their heads and grinned to each other, half pitying and half finding amusement in the fear-stricken expressions that appeared on Master Baggin’s face from time to time. Between that, and the times the hobbit would lose himself in his silent, pining contemplation of their uncle, they were having quite a merry time, despite the heavy rain drenching them to the bone.

“Master Gandalf, isn’t there anything you could do in regards of this terrible weather?” Dori pleaded their wizard.

“It is raining, Master Dori” replied Gandalf, a somewhat dark shade on his otherwise expressionless face: “and it will continue to rain until it stops”

Fíli and Kíli snickered very quietly, not wanting to attract the ire of Master Dori. Nori, always quite close to the princes, turned towards them, revealing a very big smile. The thief was having a lot of fun at the expenses of his poor elder brother, but they could hardly blame him: Dori was a rather protective eldest brother, to the point of alarmingly too often becoming suffocating.

“Not even you can be such a motherhen” Kíli said in a soft voice to his older brother.

Fíli snorted through his nose and smirked.

“Thanks, I guess”

Kíli beamed, and Fíli beamed back.

Xxxx

“So, I still haven’t found something to compare it” Kíli said, out of the blue.

Fíli raised his head, somewhat alarmed at thinking he might have known what his younger brother might be referring to.

His very reckless younger brother, he should have added, if his suspects turned out to be right.

He raised one very blond eyebrow and looked pointedly at Kíli. The brunet prince shook his shoulder and motioned with his head to the fact that the two of them were riding quite far from the other, which confirmed Fíli’s fear.

“I don’t think it wise to discuss it now, and here…?” he said, looking pointedly at Kíli with a look that clearly ordered ‘drop it’.

Kíli shook his head.

“Nonsense. They’re far enough, and you’ve understood what I meant. Just try to explain it to me”

Fíli sighed.

It was true, they were far enough. And, they could keep it ambiguous enough by not clearly saying what they were talking about, Fíli guessed.

The main problem was that he had no clue how to describe it.

“I don’t know Kíli” he admitted.

Kíli pouted.

“No, I mean, seriously. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I wish I had words to tell you. It felt… good. Like, one of the best thing that I have ever felt. Overwhelming. And, it made me feel like fainting, but at the same time gave me this incredible boost? It doesn’t even make sense, sorry. Forget it”

Kíli frowned.

“I suppose it does. I just have no idea what that means” he mused, lips pursed and a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Hey, suppose we do it by ourselves. I mean, what he did to you. The way he touched you” he said, lowering his voice at every addition he made. 

Fíli looked at him more and more weary, then raised one single, very inquisitive eyebrow.

“Well. Do you think we can give one to ourselves? Alone? With… you know… our own hand?” asked Kíli.

Fíli looked puzzled for a moment. Then he shrugged, thinking back at the way Ibun’s hand has moved on him, the way he had fisted him.

He supposed he could repeat the same thing to himself.

“I… guess” he answered, hesitatingly.

“We should try” Kíli said, a light of determination in his eyes that told Fíli he had better started looking for the next private spot available, as soon as they were going to make camp that night, because his brother wasn’t going to postpone his researching.

“I guess we could, yes” he said.

Kíli beamed.

Xxxx

Kíli panted, eyes going from squeezed shut to wide open, desperately looking into Fíli’s eyes, who find it a bit disturbing, to hold gaze with his brother the closer they got to his peak, but who held it anyway.

The younger prince was clenching his teeth, to keep in the moans he had found out he would otherwise make.

His hand was a blur, so fast he was moving it, and his back would arch the tiniest bity every other second.

Fíli found it disturbing just as much, the fact that he felt like he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Kíli. Was it because it was Kíli, or was it because this had to do with sex? He wasn’t touching himself, but he felt so tempted to.

He was kneeling very close to where Kíli was sprawled. Kíli had grabbed one of his hands and would occasionally clench it in a vice. Sweat pooled on Kíli’s forehead, and Fíli used his free hand to wipe it away with the end of his sleeve.

He saw the way Kíli’s mouth was now twisting, a weird expression vaguely resembling pain on the younger prince’s face. Fíli leaned over to whisper at his ear some of the things that Ibun had whispered to him, that had seemed to help him push past the limit.

“Isn’t it good, Kíli? Just let go. Let go, Kíli. I’m here with you. Let go, I’m gonna catch you. Don’t worry brother, just let go… you’re doing so good. Just give in”

Kíli bit his lip so hard Fíli saw a fat red drop bloom out, and he arched and tensed, spasming a little bit. Fíli was almost caught by surprise by the suddenness of it, and almost didn’t move away fast enough, but he did, however at the very last minute, and managed not to soil his clothes with Kíli’s spent.

Fíli caressed Kíli’s hair, combing them backwards and out of his face.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

His brother, eyes still closed, chuckled slow, and opened his eyes as if he didn’t really want to.

“…Wow” he said.

“Right?” beamed Fíli.

“So right” Kíli beamed back.

Xxxx

Had it been disturbing?

That he had held Kíli’s hand while his brother was lost in pleasure? Was it wrong?

Would his uncle be disappointed, or ashamed or angry at him, if he ever found out? Oh well.

Xxxx

“You have to do it, too, now” whispered Kíli, when they were sitting alone by the fire.

It was their turn to keep watch, and they were sitting very close, one in front of the other, as close as the firepit between them allowed.

Fíli looked alarmed around them and saw that everyone else, dwarf, hobbit or wizard, was sleeping, but still turned to Kíli with a pointed expression.

“Why?”

No point asking what, he thought.

“Because only you can tell me if it is just as good by yourself or …”

“Yes. Whatever” Fíli interrupted him, before he said something too revealing and they found out that someone wasn’t really sleeping.

“When we have time, I will” 

Xxxx

Of course Kíli didn’t let one single day pass before cornering Fíli against the trunk of a tree and insisting that he did it there and then.

“The others are far enough, and we’re supposed to gather wood. They won’t notice if we take a bit longer”

How was he supposed to say no?

Xxxx

“Come on, brother, give in. Just like you told me. I will be here to catch you. So good, Fíli, you look so good. Let go….”

Xxxx

Later on, Fíli wondered why he had accepted the hand that Kíli had sneaked over his own, the one he wasn't using on himself, offering the same anchoring hold that Fíli had used with him.

He hadn’t held hands with Ibun.

Xxxx

“So good, Fíli, you look so good…”

Xxxx

It felt so fucking good.

It felt incredible.

It felt like he could never breath again, and he could conquer the world and more. And the hand that had squeezed his had anchored and guided him through it all, driving him back.

Xxxx

“So?”

Fíli chuckled, still breathless.

“Aye. Good. Definitely good”

“Better alone or better with another?”

Fíli pursed his lips.

“Maybe with another” he admitted, finally: “But better than with someone that is a creep”

Kíli beamed.

Xxxx

“Why did it take you lads so long to gather some wood!” grumbled Dwalin, when they deposited by the fire what they had collected.

“You could go yourself, Master Dwalin, and we shall see how long it takes you” Kíli innocently replied.

Dwalin’s answer was a silent glare.

“Fíli, Kíli” called their uncle Thorin.

They turned their heads towards him, simultaneously.

“Go watch over the pony” he ordered tersely.

“Aye, uncle Thorin” they said, and went.

Xxxx

In retrospect, they should have probably held better watch on the ponies.


	6. On Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli were supposed to watch the pony. Not explore more what could be done with each other's body. But Kíli has an idea, after what he's seen Ibun doing to Fíli. And he really wants to replace Ibun with himself.
> 
> Add to this the trolls scene: Thorin is frustrated, Dwalin had a fantastic plan, Balin is tired of playing big bro to literally everyone, and poor Bilbo actually saves the day, whether Thorin admits it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Durincest. Yes, I know, sorry, it's coming slow, but, hey, at least it's coming. (Oooooohhhh I have a terrible pun here...!)
> 
> So: Durincest, kissing, humping like teenagers because it's basically what they are.
> 
> And the trolls scene.

"What the!! Kíli!"

Fíli startled when he found himself pushed against a tree, again. This time with his front pressed on the bark, and a little brother flattened again at his back. A little brother that wasn't so little anymore, and was kind of looming over him.

Kíli had completely aligned himself against Fíli's back, and Fíli, despite all the clothes he was wearing, and even his twin swords crossed on his back, felt something that left him to wonder if it was Kíli's belt buckle, the hilt of his sword, or if it was what Fíli was afraid it was and, well.

One thing was bathing together naked, and not feeling any shame. One thing was sleeping often together, insisting to remain in the same room, and sometime even in the same bed, despite their age. And one thing was even undertaking together this journey to learn what sex was.

But it was a matter of a completely different kind, allowing his little brother to, basically, hump against him. Especially if that meant Fíli was supposed to be pushed facedown into a tree.

He shoved Kíli away and turned, immediately noticing the way the dark pupils were dilated, the brownish Iris all but disappeared. That, plus the way Kíli stumbled, slightly open-mouthed, confirmed every suspect that had risen in Fíli's brain.

"Have you become mad?!" Fíli hissed.

Kíli swallowed, looking like he was trying to regain some control. Fíli was stunned at seeing how turned on Kíli already was. What had he been thinking about, to be affected this deeply, and this quick? They had gotten off not even half an hour before!

Fíli felt torn between anger, curiosity and concern for his brother, and it was only because he was equally split between each of these feelings that he hadn't already slapped him in anger.

"First of all, what the fuck has gotten into you" he demanded to know, hissing quite angrily.

"And second, what the fuck do you think you're doing? I've agreed to do this... thing together, but don't you dare think I'm your bitch!" he seethed.

Kíli swallowed and nodded. Fíli appreciated the effort he realized Kíli was making in reigning in his lust. He reciprocated by trying to smother his anger, in turn.

"I'm sorry, Fee" Kíli muttered.

He fisted his hands in the pockets of his long coat, and shook his head.

"I just... I've been thinking about something since I've watched you, before, and... I guess I've just let it get to my head, sorry"

There was something in his words that made Fíli blush, and he tried to fight it.

"What was it?" Fíli asked.

"What?" Kíli asked, too, confused.

"What was it that you've been thinking since then" he clarified.

"Oh" said Kíli, blushing slightly.

Fíli frowned, but only on the inside. He kept a perfect poker face on, not wanting to turn Kíli's ideas down even before hearing what they entailed. Maybe they were good. They could be good. And he didn't want Kíli to feel judged, most of all.

"Well.. it's something that I saw Ibun do. To you. Well, not to you. With you. Just... To himself" Kíli explained, still blushing.

The red on his cheeks was a bad omen, Fíli thought. But then he had blushed before insisting they touched themselves, and that had been fantastic. So Fíli thought about his intercourse with Ibun, and there was nothing so embarrassing he wouldn't, couldn't do with Kíli.

Except, maybe, let him touch him... there.

He cleared his throat and nodded to Kíli to continue speaking.

"Yes, well, it was.. you know. When you were already done... what did he do, for his own... Uh, pleasure?"

Kíli was still blushing, obviously uncomfortable, and Fíli started to enjoy the view, and to think it funny, because normally by this point Kíli's recklessness would have taken the upper hand inside his little brother, overpowering his sense of shame.

Then he thought more in detail about Ibun, rutting against his thigh and bringing himself off like that, clutching at Fíli's hair and body, his hot breath tickling the prince.

He imagined Kíli, in Ibun's place.

And swapping place with Kíli, and him being the one pushing against Kíli, holding him in place against a wall. Or, in what was more likely going to happen in their case, a tree.

Fíli's hand crept to his chest, where the buckle of the holder of his swords was, and he swiftly undid it with quick, expert fingers.

He nodded to Kíli, who unfastened his sword and dropped it close to Fíli's, just as fast.

Fíli nodded again to Kíli, in direction of the tree. The younger prince frowned, angling his head the way he would when things weren't coming along the way he'd planned.

"Wait, I thought I'd be doing it" he said, hesitating.

Fíli smirked: "I don't think so" he answered, and took a smug, swaggering step forward.

"But! But I saw how to do it!" Kíli tried to argue, his voice slightly rising and eyes going wide.

He didn't even notice taking one step back, until it was taken. Then he looked down at his own feet, surprised they had betrayed him, and back into Fíli's light blue eyes.

Fíli felt a weird, new feeling bloom up and light him up from the inside. It felt like a push, the desire to stalk after a prey, to corner his brother and push him against that tree. And what a pretty sight had suddenly Kíli's eyes become, so wide open, an odd sort of... fear? creeping in.

"I saw it better" Fíli replied, in a husky voice that sounded vaguely like his Durin's tone, but that was also completely different.

Kíli swallowed and didn't reply. Then he steeled himself and looked at his older brother with a resolute expression, the fear dissipating. Kíli's version of the Durin's face, as Fíli would often say.

"Ok" he said, and moved to the same tree he'd previously pushed Fíli against.

He turned, leaning against the bark with his back, and looked at Fíli with a slightly challenging expression. He raised his eyebrow, and the challenge wasn't slight anymore.

Fíli swallowed, squared his shoulders and approached. He felt a tingle of nervousness in the back of his mind, but he smothered it by stalking in swift steps to where Kíli was waiting.

He saw the same fear from before flash back into Kíli's eyes, but it disappeared the moment Fíli reached for him and placed himself in front of him. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he put them on the tree, but he moved them almost immediately after, placing one on Kíli's hip, the other on his chest.

He looked at Kíli. Which meant looking up, if only slightly, because, especially this close, Kíli was taller.

Kíli smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, making them both laugh, Fíli hunched forward.

When he stood back, he realized he'd started caressing Kíli's chest with the fingers of the hand he'd placed there. Kíli had put his hands one on Fíli's back, one on his shoulder, and was caressing him, too. As if they were encouraging each other.

Fíli saw an odd languor in the dark eyes, something that made him feel hungry, all of a sudden, but he wasn't sure what of.

"Should I kiss you?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse.

Kíli bit his lower lip, hesitating.

"If... If you want?" he answered.

Fíli closed his eyes, and dove forward.

Xxxx

Kissing Ibun had been weird.

The older dwarf had all but jumped on him and started kissing the life out of Fíli, shoving his tongue inside his mouth as soon as he'd parted lips in a surprised gasp.

But then the dwarf had realized Fíli's total lack of experience, and he had tuned down the aggressiveness, adjusting the kiss to a more befitting tempo.

This second part had been much better, but still, it had felt odd, being that close and intimate with a complete stranger. Fíli thought that, reasonably, it should have been better with someone he knew, and that he didn't mind having this close, like Kíli.

So he pressed his lips against Kíli's, and his brother pressed back in small, nervous pecks. Fíli brushed his mouth in slower movements, and started to open his lips, coaxing Kíli into doing the same. A small sound left Kíli's throat, when Fíli sucked leisurely on Kíli's lower lip.

Fíli's hand on Kíli's hip moved in circles and grabbed it more firmly, while his other hand moved on Kíli's chest down to the other hip, caressing him all the way down to his destination.

Kíli whimpered again and his tongue gave a sort of subconscious spasm forwards, licking Fíli's lower lip. Fíli opened his mouth further, and pushed his own tongue out. It slithered past Kíli's front teeth, and it met Kíli's when he pushed it back out.

The hand on Fíli's shoulder clutched him and he stepped closer, pressing against Kíli, accidentally making them rub one against the other, from chest to thigh.

Kíli moaned again, and dove in to recapture Fíli's mouth when he gasped and almost move away at the contact. Kíli grew bolder, kissing Fíli deeper, not bothering to stop the sighs his own throat was letting out. Fíli, who had no intention of contributing any less than Kíli to this learning experience, pushed his hips forward, rubbing them against Kíli's.

Neither of them could help the moan the movement elicited. Fíli did it again, dragging his mouth away from Kíli's.

They both looked down at their joined hips, Fíli still pushing and making Kíli moan softly through parted lips. His brother closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree, looking down at Fíli with heavy lidded eyes.

Something on his face triggered Fíli, who grabbed hard at Kíli's hips and started pushing harder, faster, capturing Kíli's mouth and swallowing down his every moan. Kíli, in turn, slipped his hands in Fíli's hair and held on for dear life, meeting every thrust and kissing the other just as hard.

When Kíli's orgasm hit him, it caught both of them completely by surprise, and it triggered Fíli's one as well, dragging him into a vortex of white light and utter shadow.

When they reopened their eyes, they were both panting and both were very uncomfortable in their underwear.

Kíli chuckled.

Fíli too.

Then they started laughing, Fíli leaning on Kíli, and Kíli leaning boneless against the tree.

"Wow" Kíli said.

"That was really good, uh" Fíli agreed.

"Better than Ibun?" Kíli asked, wiggling his eyebrows down to Fíli.

The blond prince rolled his eyes.

"Come on" Kíli grinned, suddenly back to his usual smug self.

"Yes, better" answered Fíli.

Xxxx

They cleaned up the best way they could, given the circumstances, and made to finally check the ponies.

They found ripped trees, and only twelve of the fourteen ponies the company travelled with.

They shared an utterly identical expression of ‘shit, we are so fucked’.

And that is when Master Baggins, burglar extraordinaire, showed up.

With food for them, no less.

Kíli threw a quick smile at Fíli, his eyebrow wiggling.

‘Blessed the hobbit!’ Fíli thought, very happy to see the halfling, who was small enough and light enough on his feet that he could approach the trolls much more safely than any dwarf.

He was also quite relieved to see the hobbit arriving now, instead of making his entry about twenty minutes before, and catching him and Kíli in the middle of their... lessons.

“Master Baggins! Exactly the one we needed!” Fíli said.

They both smiled brightly at the halfling.

Xxxx

He chewed on the stew and swallowed quickly, before pushing another spoonful of food in.

“Hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl?” Kíli said all of a sudden, echoing the suggestion Fili had given to the hobbit only a few moments before.

Fíli frowned at Kíli’s skeptical smirk.

“What?” he asked, shaking his head.

“From the look on his face, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out he doesn’t know how to hoot like any owl, at all” the younger prince argued, scoffing.

Silence.

They looked at each other, then sprung to their feet, bowls on the floor, hastily fastening their swords back into place.

Xxxx

“Why did we let him go!” Fíli frustratedly whispered while they were searching through the bushes.

“Why hasn’t he said anything about not knowing how an owl hoots!” Kíli said, echoing his tone.

Then they heard booming voices, and Master Baggins’ very polite reasonable tone, saying that he was a hobbit.

Xxxx

“Shit!” Fíli mouthed, taking in the scene.

The three trolls looking big and hungry. The ponies still in a sort of corral. Something boiling in a giant cauldron, something that wasn’t their hobbit. Yet.

“How in Mahal’s name do we save our hobbit, now!” Kíli whispered, angry and afraid that they wouldn’t be seeing their burglar in one piece anymore.

“Go call Thorin. Go!”

Xxxx

Thorin wasn’t happy to know where, exactly, his freshly employed burglar was.

Xxxx

“What?!”

“Sssht!” hissed half the company, signing to the king for silence, after hearing that trolls were nearby.

Xxxx

“Fíli, I understand that spending your life this close to your brother must have affected your intellectual abilities, but, I thought you were the smart one?!” Thorin whisper-yelled.

This time, Kíli didn’t protest.

“Thorin, I have a plan” said Dwalin, the dwarf of the hour, interrupting the tirade of the angry, stressed king.

Xxxx

According to the plan, Kíli notched an arrow and waited.

Xxxx

Three arrows flew, and then Kíli run out before anyone else, brandishing his sword and causing Dwalin to have a fit, since the prince had just screwed up about ninety percent of his fantastic plan.

“Drop him!” the younger prince shouted to the trolls, much to the relief of a very pale looking hobbit.

“What the… Kíli!” Fíli shouted, running out and charging the trolls that were now aiming at his younger brother.

“Why, lad, why!” Balin lamented, putting hand to his sword.

“I’m going to wring his skinny neck, see if I don’t!” Thorin bellowed, charging out with his sword.

“Thorin!” Balin chastised his king, who didn’t really give him much mind, since he was busy swinging his sword around and aiming at any troll body parts that could make sense hitting.

“Mahal’s beard! The plan!! Why the fuck do I make a plan for, if one idiot runs out like that! And his equally idiot brother runs after him, too!”

“Dwalin, quit it. Be content with knowing that you’re right and shut your gob!” Balin chided his younger brother.

Dwalin swung his axe and a troll gave a shrill scream.

“Thank you, brother. Knowing I am right will make me feel much better, when I’m about to be eaten!”

Xxxx

Despite Kíli’s recklessness and Fíli’s tendency to always run to cover his younger brother, the plan worked out quite well.

That is, until the one troll who evidently had a bit of a brain in his head swung Master Baggins up, and ordered the company to drop their weapons, or else they would have fought for the sake of their burglar’s dismembered body.

Xxxx

“I never felt this humiliated in my life” grumbled Nori: “first time I end up in a sack, instead of taking something from one!”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost yer humor!” Bofur said.

“I’m about to lose my life. I can’t lose everything all at once, now, can I?”

Xxxx

“Stop!” ordered Master Baggins, standing in a sack in front of three mountain trolls and attracting thirteen sets of surprised and marveled dwarvish eyes.

“You’re doing it all wrong!”

Thirteen sets of dwarvish brows frowned, trying to understand what was the halfling’s plan, for the sake of whose life they were now facing a cooked death.

Xxxx

“You should… skin them!” 

Xxxx

“Master Baggins!” came Dori indignat cry.

“You treacherous little bastard!” screamed Dwalin.

“I thought we were friends, Mister Boggins!” yelled the princes.

Xxxx

Gandalf came in and it was a vision of pure light, relief and bliss.

Kíli was sure he had never been this relieved to see an old man shaking a staff.

Xxxx

Thorin was… slightly upset at the two of them.

But weirdly enough, he seemed to think their burglar was even more responsible than his own heirs, who had been the ones to screw up the plan, and even those who had convinced Master Baggins to walk towards death, in the first place.

And after all the hobbit was also the one who had saved them all.

Fíli and Kíli, feeling guilty, stuck close to the hobbit, and decided to help him survive their uncle’s wrath.


	7. While we fight (we are toeing a line)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interesting content of the trolls' cave is revealed, hobbits are cute, wizards are weird and it turns out Gandalf isn't even the weirdest one, orcs are coming, and, finally, Rivendell.
> 
> Along this: Fíli and Kíli start wondering if they are going too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escaping orcs + wargs. Thorin no likes elves. Radagast is really weird. No durincest, but there is some self - questioning from our favorite princes' selves.

The hobbit looked miserable.

Fíli and Kíli felt even more guilty than they already did, since they knew for direct experience that nothing could compare to the unpleasantness of being the target of Thorin’s wrath.

And they were also well aware that Thorin, being their uncle and having acted as their second father for more than half their lives, was very, very partial to them. They knew that the unpleasantness they would experience was not even close to half what he would reserve to anyone else.

He seemed to be taking it extra harsh on poor Master Baggins, they noticed, and they couldn’t understand why. After all, the hobbit had saved them all, and also had showed guts enough to stall and bluff with three huge mountain trolls. He hadn’t even been able to count on the protection of a sword, the first time he had approached them, and yet he had gone out of his hiding place in the bushes and talked to the trolls.

Thinking now about his idea to buy time, Fíli and Kíli admitted that it had been a good idea, too, appealing to the trolls’ appetite. It was probably the only thing that could have worked, especially given the circumstances they, as warriors, were facing.

“Mountains trolls never venture this south” Thorin was telling Gandalf.

“They did, once, when they were pushed by an evil force that took residence in their mountains” Gandalf remarked, angling his face so that the brim of his pointy hat was almost completely obscuring his face.

“You mean the Necromancer” Thorin said, with a thoughtful glare.

“Aye, I do” said Gandalf, just as deep in thoughts as the dwarvish king.

He straightened up and shook his staff in direction of the wood around them.

“Trolls must have a cave, to hide in from daylight. We should look for their shelter. Interesting things can be found in a troll’s cave” he suggested.

He was right: the company found the cave (Balin spotted it) and they found out it contained much gold and many jewels.

There were also dried bones, skulls and corpses in different decomposing states, almost all missing few parts, and some even still in armour or dressed.

Bofur, Nori and Glóin immediately set to collect as much gold and jewels as they could, placed it all in a chest and proceeded to dig a hole in the ground deep enough to hide it.

Bombur placidly watched and pointed out that it was very unlikely they would have ever found this place again, but the three didn’t seem to mind.

“I always know where I hide my gold” Nori smirked.

“Do remember that this is not all yours!” Bofur said, lifting his head from where he was bent in two, digging the hole.

“Yes, yes, of course” the thief said.

Glóin threw a very mistrustful glare in his direction, and the princes fought not to laugh.

“If they are stupid enough to share a treasure with a thief, it’s their fault” Kíli whispered to Fíli, who was leaning against a side of the opening of the cave, his arms crossed, a very amused smile on his face.

“Aye, little brother” he agreed, whispering just as slow.

Kíli smirked at him. Something that he saw in Fíli's face made his smirk grow into a full, pleasant smile, and Fíli returned it. It warmed something inside him, as if Kíli’s smile was brightening the cave itself a bit more, just like the sunrays outside.

He blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed for what he was feeling, even if he couldn’t pinpoint what could have been wrong in liking his brother’s smile.

The unpleasantness had already creeped in enough, though, so he pushed himself from the wall of the cave and cleared his throat.

Kíli didn’t really notice: he had already turned towards where Thorin was picking up a sword and examining.

“Ah, Orcrist” Gandalf said from behind Thorin, recognizing the sword.

“An elvish blade”

Thorin’s face went from the awe of an expert who examines a precious artifact, to the typical ‘ew, I’ve touched it’ expression.

Kíli caught himself in time not to laugh, but it was a close call. Fíli himself had trouble to smother his snicker in his beard.

In the end, the wizard managed to persuade their uncle to keep the sword, despite the race of its makers. He also found a short sword that their halfling burglar could wield, one that truly wouldn’t evoke too much fear in an opponent, being so small, but at least fitted well with the small size of a hobbit body.

The princes left the cave, while the wizard was explaining to Master Baggins that his sword would have alerted him when orcs or goblin were approaching.

“Ah, that is something that could be useful” Kíli commented, smirking to his brother.

Fíli scoffed: “I doubt it was true. Never seen a blade telling you when orcs or goblins are around!”

“Yes, but you’ve never had an elvish blade. Maybe they have swords that help them figure out when danger comes their way” Kíli mused, smiling.

“I can see why they would. Oh, blade, are you serious now? Orcs are coming? I haven’t finished brushing my ears!” Fíli said, in a shrill, effeminate voice that should sound elvish.

Kíli laughed.

“Yer having fun, lads?” Dwalin said, sheathing his sword and axe, and a dozen knives that Fíli could never understand where he would keep on his body. Although he thought he had been a good student, and not even Kíli could guess the exact number of the daggers he carried on himself every day.

“Sorry for ruining your plan, Dwalin” Kíli said, smiling almost sheepishly to their old trainer.

The older warrior shook his head and made a gruff sound, his usual sign for ‘don’t mention it, lad’.

“You shouldn’t be making that puppy face. Should have stopped when you reached thirty, really” he muttered.

Fíli laughed.

Xxxx

Wizard were odd, they had already realized.

Gandalf wasn’t exactly the most sensitive fellow they had ever had to do with, he came and went as he pleased, never fully explained why or where did he went.

The only thing he had told Master Baggins, with whom he seemed to be more in confidence than any other dwarf, was that he had gone forwards to look ahead, and that what had brought him back had been looking behind. Truly, wizards seemed to like to speak in riddles.

But this new wizard that popped out of the blue now, wearing ratted brownish clothes and who had birds’ guano in his hair and a literal nest on top of his head, Mahal helped them all.

This one seemed completely out of his foolish mind. Fíli and Kíli shared an eloquent glance and turned to share it also with as many companions as possible, but Gandalf caught them and cast a glare in their direction.

They straightened their face, however not really looking any less doubtful about the weird appearance. Gandalf talked with his fellow wizard and introduced him as Radagast the Brown. Which explained the color of his clothes, under the layers of soil that covered them.

The newcomer spoke of a Necromancer, which make Thorin’s frown grow deeper, and Gandalf look positively taken stricken at the news – but not entirely surprised, at the same time.

That is when they heard a sound that could only come from the wargs orcs would ride, and every dwarf put hand to their weapon of choice. Balin moved swiftly for a dwarf of his age and climbed on top of a rock, from where he spotted a group of orcs, coming most likely in their direction.

“They are too many, we stand no chance” Dwalin told Thorin, before the king came up with any foolish idea.

“The ponies have bolted” Ori said, speaking to the king for maybe one of the first time.

“Let them chase after me, while you run away” suggested the foolish looking brown wizard.

“Radagast, I don’t think you can outrun a pack of orcs in a sledge pulled by rabbits” Gandalf said, in a not so rare show of his fantastic sarcasm.

“This are not standard rabbits” insisted Radagast.

Neither Fíli nor Kíli understood where the rabbits where supposed to be coming from, and they were quite surprised when their uncle agreed to use the brown wizard as a diversion, but went along nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare fuck this plan up, now” Dwalin hissed to Kíli.

He took it seriously, but only because of pack of too many orcs and wargs was coming their way.

The brown wizard sprinted away in his ledge, his rabbits running indeed very very fast, so much that the orcs struggled to keep him in sight.

The company run unseen towards a group of rock, where they tried to reassemble and decide which direction to go.

Fíli unsheathed his twin blades from his back and rolled his eyes.

Of course uncle Thorin didn’t want to go to Rivendell, to the stupid elves.

“Seems like a good idea to me, though” Kíli muttered very close to his brother’s ear, notching an arrow in in bow, eyes trained to where the orcs could approach.

“Gandalf insist this lord Elrond is the only one who can read that damned map”

“I wonder if there are other reasons he wants us there” Fíli mumbled, swinging the swords in his hands.

Kíli smirked: “Are you done playing cool with your swords?”

Fíli blushed slightly but winked at his younger brother.

“Why, jealous?”

Kíli shook his head, his long dark hair covering his reddening cheeks.

“Kíli!” Thorin hissed.

Kíli, suddenly completely serious and focused, turned to their uncle, drawing the string of the bow.

Thorin motioned up, and the princes noticed an orc astride a warg, who was peering down in the direction where the dwarves were hidden.

Kíli shot an arrow that passed the orc from part to part, the warg under him falling down because of the impulse given to it by the falling corpse. Dwalin gave the beast a mighty hit with his axe, but it still managed to let out a few whimpers too high.

They attracted the attention of the other wars and orcs, and soon Radagast was followed by only half of the orcs that were previously pursuing him, the other half diverted to where the company was.

Kíli let loose arrow after arrow, bringing down as many beasts as he could. Fíli swung his sword and launched himself with Thorin, Dwalin and Balin against the orcs. Dori pushed the halfling and Ori behind himself, Ori shooting with his sling and Master Baggins brandishing his sword like he had no clue how to even hold it, but trying it anyway.

Kíli made sure to shoot down every warg and orc that was approaching in Fíli’s direction, although he tried to offer the same protection also to the rest of the company. Fíli seemed a dancer, swinging his swords one side and the other with equal dexterity, and it was a sight, Kíli thought, to see him and uncle Thorin and old Dwalin all close one to the other, three dwarvish techniques so different, and all so lethal.

“Lad! Arrow!” Bofur shouted, calling for Kíli’s attention while he tried to elude a persistent orc and his ride, that seemed to have targeted his precious hat, and the head that was under it.

Kíli notched an arrow and shot it straight through one eye of the beast, then unsheathed his sword and swung it single handedly down, decapitating the orc that rode it.

“Who’s showing off now!” Fíli shouted, laughing from not too far.

Kíli tried to ignore the blush on his cheeks and focused on the battle at hand.

Thorin and Dwalin worked amazingly in pair to draw near a couple of bulky wargs and their riders, and then killed in a perfect, practiced synchrony.

Fíli swung swords left and right, but was quick to realize that they weren’t going to stand this fight for much longer. Kíli looked like he was starting to run low on arrows, and Nori, Bifur and Bofur were trying to do all they could to face the beasts, but they had already broken free from three attempts from the orcs to surround them, and it looked like this fourth time they weren’t managing just as well against the attack.

Fíli tried to run at their rescue, but Bombur was faster, and literally jumped down from a rock onto the orcs, scattering them and possibly breaking some bones to those he landed on.

“Where the fuck is Gandalf!” shouted Thorin.

“He has abandoned us!” shouted back Dwalin.

Fíli groaned out loud, sure that he was far enough and that the noise of the battle would cover his voice. Kíli chuckled, and Fíli heard him.

“Thorin, they’re too many, we’re surrounded!” Fíli shouted, taking in some orcs that were riding fast to their only remaining open way out.

“Down here, you fools!” came in Gandalf’s booming voice.

Thorin run over to the opening under the rocks where the wizard was gesturing them to approach. He started calling the members of the company more or less at the same time they heard horns being blown. Horns that didn’t sound orc ones.

“Fíli!” Thorin shouted, and Fíli stopped fighting and run towards the gap.

“Kíli!” Thorin shouted again.

Kíli shot another couple of arrows to cover his brother’s retreat, then they both launched themselves in the opening in the rock that led down to the hidden cave Gandalf had found.

Finally, even Thorin slid in, and right after him an orc dead body rolled down.

They heard horses whinnying and stomping hooves, and again the sound of the horns that they didn’t recognize.

Thorin leaned over the dead orc and turned him around with the tip of his booted foot, uncovering the arrow that had struck him in the heart. He clutched the body of the arrow and dragged it out, examining the metal tip.

“Elves” he muttered, spitting the word out like an insult.

“Thorin, it goes on!” Dwalin shouted.

Thorin turned in Dwalin’s direction, like all the rest of the company did.

Gandalf shook his cloak and started walking to where Dwalin was standing. The old warrior dwarf pointed at a long, narrow passage with the end of his axe.

“This will likely lead to Rivendell” he muttered to himself.

Dwalin, and the princes not far from them, heard.

“He won’t like it” Dwalin whispered, looking straight into Gandalf’s eyes. The wizard looked like he hadn’t appreciated the comment.

“Well, he will go nonetheless” he declared.

He and Dwalin held gaze for a few seconds, then the dwarf started walking along the passage.

The company followed after him, some chattering and more of them gloomily looking ahead. Thorin’s face was thunderous, and Fíli and Kíli stayed only a little behind, to have the freedom of speech some privacy could guarantee to them.

“I don’t understand why uncle refuse this much to go to elves” Kíli muttered.

“You know he just doesn’t like them” Fíli calmly replied.

“I do, but he’s bordering on ridiculous” Kíli said, watching very carefully in front of them.

Fíli shook his shoulders.

“I’m not saying you are wrong. At this point, we wouldn’t have any alternative, anyway” he said.

Xxxx

The tunnel ended when the passage opened into a small clearing, right where stone steps started.

Not too far in the distance, at the bottom of these stairs they could see the truly beautiful sight of the elven kingdom of Rivendell. Water was flowing literally everywhere, and Fíli wondered how those buildings could have any stability, with so many openings, between windows, portals, passages, doors… Yet everything gave the idea of having been there from millennia.

“Oh, wow” Kíli whispered, not even trying to attempt covering his awe.

Fíli smirked.

“Like what you see? Maybe you really are a bit elvish” he teased lightly.

Kíli turned to him so fast he almost hurt himself, and fixed his older brother with a murderous glare.

“I was joking” said Fíli, raising his hands.

“You know I don’t like to hear that” Kíli muttered, his dark face only slightly dissipating.

“Aye, I apologize brother” Fíli said smiling.

Kíli hummed, then he smirked.

“Well, you could make it up to me, I guess”

Fíli almost gaped. He looked pointedly at his brother, hinting with his eyes movement to the rest of the company that was around them.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked.

Kíli smirked more, his usual smug grin he would have when he got something he wanted.

“You can do with some more practice” Fíli blushed, but he chuckled low, too, and held his brother’s gaze.

“I thought I was already good enough” he replied.

“More practice can’t hurt us” Kíli said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Fíli chuckled fondly at him.

“You’re impossible”

Xxxx

This hunger that rose whenever Kíli would look at him in that way…

Was it something that he should be ashamed of? Should he be ashamed of what they were doing? Would Thorin be that mad, had he found out what his heirs were up to?

Xxxx

Kíli felt like he was dangerously close to trespass a line that should not be crossed.

But this was Fíli. Fíli would tell him if they were going too far. And he was sure this wasn’t too far, anyway.

But the feeling lingered and wouldn’t leave him, so much that they kept this entire thing wrapped in absolute silence.


	8. Rivendell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivendell is beautiful. So is Fíli, in Kíli's thought. Fíli has a great idea, and Kíli is definitely on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, sorry. Durincest only mentioned. Kind of dirty talking.

"I've never seen so many females all at once. There are so many!" Kíli whispered, so close to Fíli's ear that he was basically whispering into it.

The eyes of the young prince darted nervously and curiously around the dining room where Lord Elrond had invited the company to join him to dinner. Fíli felt a pang of jealousy and didn't understand why. Then he thought that he could most definitely concur, and nodded.

However, he had seen elves already, unlike Kíli, and he smirked, noticing the way Kíli was staring at a very soft looking blond elf.

"Aye, there are. That one, though, is a male" he whispered back.

Kíli gaped and turned, checking Fíli's expression to see if his brother was fooling him. He turned a deep shade of red, when he realized that Fíli was serious, and casted his eyes down on his plate. Fíli chuckled, unable to respond any differently to his younger brothers reaction.

Kíli poked at the green leaves if something that Master Baggins had served into their plate, insisting it was called 'vegetables', and that they should eat it.

They looked absolutely tasteless, and exactly what the food they are would normally eat.

"Why should I eat the same as a goat does?" Kíli whined.

"Where's the meat, for Mahal's sake!" Dwalin grumbled irritably, grabbing the green leaves in handful.

"Haven't they got any chips?" Ori asked, hoping in vain and equally in vain looking around.

Dori was deep in conversation with the hobbit about the property of celery and chicory. On Doris's other side, Nori shared a twin glare of disgust with Glóin, who sat facing him.

"Hey brother" Fíli whispered to Kíli, dragging his eyes away from the despised green leaves.

Kíli looked up.

"Uh?"

Fíli's blue eyes, so similar to the one of their uncle Thorin and yet so different, twinkled with something that Kíli wasn't entirely familiar with. It reminded to the young prince of those few glorious time when it had been Fíli the one coming up with ideas for pranks, and it had generally led to epically funny pranks.

But there was also something else, something more and entirely new, that sent a small shiver down his spine. He decided he liked that new 'something', whatever it was.

"What" he said, when Fíli just went in smirking.

"I was thinking... Wouldn't you want to try and practice with another set of hands? Beside mine?" Fíli whispered, hot breath against Kíli's cheek.

Kíli almost startled when the suggestion and it's implication reached his brain. He shuddered slightly, without even realizing. He turned around to where the blond elf sat, then whipped back to Fíli, mouth barely open and eyes wide.

Fíli placed a warm hand on his own and intertwined their fingers, dragging both hands under the table, letting them hung between their thighs.

"Ssht, brother, careful" he whispered, very close to Kíli's ear: "we need your poker face in place, now"

Kíli swallowed and steeled his face, morphing it into his neutral, friendly expression. Óin was looking at them with a frown, he realized.

"Are yer lads well?" the old doctor asked.

They nodded in perfect synchrony. The old dwarf grunted, then grabbed a knife and half ripped half cut off a piece of table cloth, and used it to stuff his hearing horn.

The princes laughed at his new expression of blissed relief, Kíli squeezing Fíli's hand under the table.

Fíli moved closer on the bench, pressing his leg against Kíli's, and leaned over to his brother ear, again.

"Think, brother. Think about someone else touching you, delicate fingers skimming on your body. Think about their lips kissing you" Fíli whispered, smirking wolfishly.

Kíli's hand in Fíli's moved and squeezed hard, but the face of the young prince didn't betray any reaction. He only swallowed.

"...Or think about you, pushing them against a wall. Or a tree. They're elves, they would like trees. And that blond one is cute, isn't he? Or, we could have a female elf, a maiden. I bet they have small tits, though... Would you like that?" Fíli went on.

Kíli grabbed his goblet and down a long mouthful of elvish wine, which was supposed to be sipped, because it was much stronger than any dwarf would have expected.

"Slow, brother, slow" Fíli chuckled, his voice loud enough that also their neighbouring companions heard it and chuckled as well at Kíli's eagerness.

"We still need to find and woo one, first" he added, barely in a whisper.

Xxxx

As it turned out, Lord Elrond read ancient dwarvish, and he could really read Thorin's map.

Xxxx

Kíli had thought that Rivendell was beautiful, in daylight. Then he saw it under the moonlight, and changed his mind: surely this was the most beautiful sight in the entire world.

Then he saw the way the moon pale rays were dancing on Fíli's skin, on his hair, lightening up his eyes, and suddenly wasn't so sure, anymore.

Xxxx

Durin's day wasn't far enough, considering how much was the distance they still needed to cover, before they got to the Lonely Mountain.

They slipped away before the White Council or any elf took notice, as it appeared Gandalf has suggested to Thorin.

Master Baggins had the terrible idea of looking back and cast in the direction of the elvish kingdom a glance that could be interpreted as longing. Thorin saw, of course he saw, which made wonders to improve the opinion the king had of their poor burglar.

"Master Baggins" he called in his gruff voice.

The hobbit turned towards the king, as if half amazed that he would address him personally.

"I suggest you keep up" Thorin said.

Nobody could have misinterpreted the disappointment on poor Master Baggins' face.


	9. Mountains of problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company of Thorin Oakenshield undertakes the path of the mountains, and problems come in tons. Outside and inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giants, goblins and rain.

Thorin led the dwarves up the mountain, again. They walked and walked and walked, until the light of day faded into night. And even then they kept on walking, because by dusk a heavy rain had started again, and it poured down on the company, drenching every one, dwarf or hobbit, in the most unpleasant way.

That, and the fact that it was physically impossible to make camp on bare rocks with no prospect of shelter whatsoever, made them walk ahead, in the hope of finding at least a protrusion in the rock big enough to keep them dry – or, rather, less wet.

Fíli and Kíli walked ahead, scouting and then rejoining the company. At some point the path became so slippery due to the heavy rain, that walking turned into a real hazard, so they settled for sitting down and waiting the rest of the company to catch up on them, instead of walking backwards and then forward again, with the others.

“Mahal strike me if I lie, I’ve never thought I could end up this wet” Kíli grumbled.

He desperately tried to comb his hair away from his face. They were plastered against his cheeks and stuck on his skin, equally sticking to his hands. He didn’t really manage to clear his sight or to force them into order, and he grumbled again in frustration.

“Come here” Fíli ordered, standing up and walking himself to where his brother was sitting. He pushed down Kíli’s hood and combed the hair back into a sort of braid.

“Yes, thank you brother. I was trying to do that without removing my hood” Kíli said.

“You were already wet, anyway. We look like if we had just taken a bath” Fíli retorted, and walked back to the spot where he was previously sitting.

He hated sitting under the rain, especially when he was already wet and his clothes hung to his skin, his hair was plastered against his face, and his beard and moustaches were so drenched in rain that they were dripping additional droplets down his shirt.

“Good thing Dwalin found that spare hood to give the hobbit” Fíli said, attempting to make a funny observation, to try and lighten the mood.

Kíli snorted.

“Poor Master Baggins already look like a drowned cat” he said.

Fíli chuckled. “Aye, he does” he agreed.

Kíli snorted again and stood. “I hate to sit when I’m this wet. And I hate to sit on stones there are even wetter than how wet I am. If there is a part of me that might be less drenched in rain, that must be my ass”

Fíli chuckled: “Brother, I’m not sure it makes a difference right now. Even if it is, it won’t stay for long”

“No, you’re right” Kíli agreed, gloomily.

Fíli leaned over his own legs, to see if he could check any better whether the company was catching up, without leaving his sitting spot. His by now relatively drier sitting spot.

He sighed loudly: “Where are they. Why are they so slow!”

“We will never go back to our dried selves. Even if we manage not to slip down the mountain and crack our skulls open, we’ll probably die for pneumonia” Kíli grumbled back.

Fíli scoffed: “Ok, how about we stop the complaining here” he suggested.

Kíli grumbled more, then he grinned to his older brother.

“You’re right. Poor weather is enough, we don’t need poor mood, too”

“Well, not that it’s easy to have any different mood, but…” Fíli said, smiling his ‘positive vibes’ smile.

Kíli smiled back. He really liked this smile on Fíli. He liked almost every smile on Fíli, with the only exception of the fake ones that hid pain or anger. Which weren’t a very recurring thing, fortunately.

In the distance they heard cracking sound. Kíli’s smile disappeared in a blink of an eye, and he lifted his face up to the sky. “Thunderstorm. Fantastic. Here goes our good mood”

Fíli chuckled. He leaned over his own legs again and finally spotted Balin’s white head. The old dwarf shook his arm up over his head and greeted the princes. They waved back and stood.

The company reached them in the following few minutes, then they stopped for a brief moment of rest. The poor hobbit looked tired, but he wasn’t faring so tragically as the brothers would have anticipated. Actually, they noticed that Ori looked in far worse conditions, and Dori was fussing over him, adjusting his hoods every two other seconds. It didn’t come as a good sign that the scribe wasn’t protesting as much as he normally would. The princes shared a worried glance, and met Dori’s eyes, who looked equally as worried. Nori, beside the hobbit, was silently watching his brothers, walking in front of him.

“Thorin, we have to find shelter” Fíli remarked to his uncle.

Thorin looked up, his eyes full of the same thunders that Fíli and Kíli had just heard.

“Yes, Fíli, I know this very well. But there isn’t any, here. We must go on” he insisted.

Had anyone else but Fíli, or even Kíli, said it, he would have probably hit them.

Fíli made a face in form of apology. The king shook his head, and nodded with his chin that his nephews preceded them, again.

Thunderstorms boomed again in the sky.

“Oh, brilliant” Bofur exclaimed, emerging from under his very drenched hat and hood on the hobbit’s other side.

“Just what we needed” Ori murmured, his face very pale.

“Let’s hope it’s just a normal thunderstorm” Nori muttered, looking worriedly ahead, as if he was trying to check on something.

Fíli’s eyebrows knitted together. It wasn’t like Nori to make a comment like that. What else could have been to sound like that, if not thunders?

“What else do you think it is, stone giants?” Bofur deadpanned.

Nori’s only answer was only an expressionless stare.

“…But those are stories, aren’t they? Only stories” Bofur asked, suddenly no longer sure, his voice quickly losing all his sarcasm.

Nori pursed his lips and didn’t answer.

“Let’s move again” Dwalin said, bringing that conversation to a stop and motioning to Thorin.

That was when they heard a terrible booming sound, and another, and another, and sequence only increased and intensified.

Alarmed eyes looked around them, everywhere, and arms were opened, looking for stable holds even if they weren’t needed yet.

Fíli saw something in the distance, like an usual flash of white light in the stone, and then the mountain moved.

The stone giant that they thought the mountain was stood in all his impressive height and roared.

“Mahal…” Dwalin muttered, grabbing Bifur with one hand and Ori with the other.

“Move!” Thorin shouted, and the company shot forward, each hand grabbing the hand or the arm of the companion that stood nearby.

They run as fast as the slippery soil allowed them. A second giant woke and rose, from the side of the mountain that they had already left. The movement of the creature destroyed that part of the mountain, and Fíli felt so glad they hadn’t been there anymore, while he caught with the back of his eye the falling debris.

The two giants started hammering each other’s heads with their fists, or with what looked like their fists, sending debris and rocks flying everywhere. One grabbed a huge piece of stone from above the side of the mountain where the dwarves where, and tore it away, showering them with the debris that fell.

The company flattened against the side of the mountain, Dori bracketing Ori with his body and Thorin dragging the hobbit close to himself. Fíli turned to catch Kíli’s hand, to make sure one of them would not slip, but a third giant rose in that very moment, from so very close to where they were standing that it almost overturned the rock they were on.

They tried to start running again, but didn’t manage many steps that a landslide broke their rock in two, the second one distancing itself from the first at increasing pace.

Fíli, left in the stable one, reached out to Kíli, who was the last on the rock that was moving. He shouted Kíli’s name, and saw Kíli eyes go widen and reach out for him, but too late already, because the rock he and the other were on was moving away.

Before Fíli could ask himself if this was the last time he was seeing his brother alive and start panicking, they realized that the landslide wasn’t an actual landslide, and that the rock that now was moving was actually part of the third giant’s legs.

When the creature was slammed against the mountain by the two others, Fíli didn’t even realize he was shouting. He could only see his brother, the hobbit, and his uncle, on that piece or rock, slammed against the mountain.

And when the giant moved away, he saw them safely tucked into a crack of the rock. He let out a relieved sigh that echoed near and behind him. He turned and saw Nori, Dwalin and Glóin mirror his expression.

“Quick, now! Towards the crack!” Dwalin shouted, pointing to the opening in the rock where the others were.

They run ahead. They had barely made it to safer ground when the rock under their feet gave away again, only this time in smaller measure.

The dwarves flattened themselves against the side of the mountain, again, but poor Master Baggins slipped down, the part of the rock he was standing on breaking into crumbles and slipping down. Bofur and Ori sprung forward and each caught one arm of the halfling. They tried to lift him back up, but Ori missed his grasp and shouted to try and catch again the hand he’d lost. Bofur, suddenly having to support all the weight of the hobbit, almost let go, but didn’t.

Fíli rushed to help, but Thorin beat him on time, and caught the halfling’s wrist in his solid hold. He lifted his burglar up in one single swing upward, but the hobbit knocked into him and Thorin dangerously stumbled over the edge of the rock. Dwalin caught his hand and helped him climb back up.

Master Baggins opened his mouth and made and obvious attempt to apologize profusely to the king for almost killing him while being rescued by him, but Thorin cut him off before he could utter a word.

“Inside!” he ordered, and they all rushed to the crack in the stone.

It opened and led to a wider space, a sort of cave, inside which they all fitted. Bofur managed to light a torch and raised up over his head. They saw that there seemed to be a passage, leading presumably somewhere safe. It didn’t look the kind of natural passage water would dig, but an artificial one.

“How did you have something still dry enough to catch fire?” Kíli asked Bofur.

“I’m a miner. I have to have secrets I shouldn’t say, don’t I?” Bofur answered with a smile.

Nori snickered, walking past the younger prince.

From inside their hiding spot they could still hear the rumbling and booming sounds of the giants fighting. There were actual thunders, too, by now, and even the pouring rain was making an incredibly loud noise. All that had been unbearable outside, but they had been so caught up in the middle of it that they had barely realized it. Now, in the relative silence that came from the dulled sounds, they realized their ears were hurting, and it was pleasant to see that now they could all hear and understand what the others were saying.

“Bofur, go ahead and see if there is a spot where we can rest. We can’t walk much longer, in these conditions” Thorin ordered.

The miner nodded. He lightened up a makeshift torch that Bifur put together and left. In the relative semi-darkness they found themselves in, the rest of the company shivered and tried to shake off the rain.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be dry, ever again” muttered Kíli, shaking his hair vigorously. Glóin grunted in agreement. He and Bombur made the same futile attempt at wringing water out of their long beards, by twisting it this and the other direction.

Thorin shook his coat off, placing on a rock nearby. The hobbit approached him, and made again an attempt to apologize.

Fíli tensed, and threw a glance to his brother. Kíli followed his eyes and scowled.

“Master Thorin, I wanted to thank you for before… I am very sorry what has happened…”

“This is alright” their uncle said, in a gruff but not too impolite voice.

Kíli watched Fíli, making a face pulling the corners of his mouth downwards, as if to say, ‘I’m impressed with how polite uncle Thorin is being’.

Fíli made to return it, but then of course is when Thorin screwed it up entirely.

“I have already told you that this quest is dangerous for an halfling. Today I saw it confirmed. We cannot take care of you, Master burglar. Either you take care of your own self or you die. If this quest is too dangerous for you, then maybe you should go back to the Shire, to your books, your chair, your fireplace. This is no gardener’s matter. You have only confirmed what I already thought when you joined us: you do not belong here”

That said, he turned his back to the hurt and astonished hobbit.

Silence fell.

Even Dwalin scowled at Thorin, but he didn’t say anything, and approached the king to talk about whether they needed to make camp in the place they currently were.

Balin and Bofur led the hobbit away, Balin gently pulling him for his arm, and whispered into Master Baggins’ ear words that Fíli and Kíli were sure it were a suggestion not to mind the words of the king.

Kíli scowled at Fíli so fiercely, Fíli felt almost tempted to smile. Instead, he only sighed and shook his head.

‘Damn stubborn uncle’ he thought.

Xxxx

Fíli and Kíli stripped of everything they could remove that didn’t entail a long time to put back on, and hung it in the best way they could.

The company spread around in the cave where they had made camp, exploiting all the little available space. Nobody complained about having to share even closer quarter than usual with the others, because they were all still so wet and chilled from the heavy rain that nobody minded extra body heat.

The princes laid their bedroll close to Thorin’s, Kíli resting his head under Fíli’s arm and Fíli placing an arm across his brother’s chest.

Thorin smiled at the two of them, with a sad air in his eyes that made them smile.

“Are you thinking of when we were little?” Kíli asked, grinning. 

Thorin smiled: “Aye, I am” he answered.

Xxxx

They woke to Thorin shouting to watch out, and vaguely registered Master Baggins standing in the middle of the room with Bofur, and with his short sword half unsheathed and glowing blue.

Fíli grabbed his swords and barely had the time to think that the blade really glowed blue, that the floor gave way and they all precipitated down, falling blindly and landing in a pile of bodies on the hard floor of another cave.

Noise assaulted them, shouting and shrieking. The stench of creatures that didn’t live in the sunlight hit his nose. His eyes blinked away the pain from the fall and took in the horde of goblins that surrounded them.

“Fuck” muttered Kíli, exactly from on top of Fíli’s chest.

“I second that” whispered Ori, looking around with wild, frightened eyes.

“Shit” Dwalin grumbled from nearby.

The goblins shrieked and moved, jumping on the spots they were standing, then they launched themselves against the half cage the dwarves and Master Baggins had fallen into.

Bofur pushed the hobbit down, forcing him to bend over his knees and almost disappear. The goblins didn’t even see him, so focused they were on the dwarves. They seized dwarvish arms and grabbed them away, pulling and dragging and shoving the company, minus Master Baggins, away.

Fíli shouted and elbowed a goblin in the snout, freeing one hand and reaching out towards Kíli, but another creature grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully back. He had to second the push, or else the goblin would break it, or possibly dislocating his shoulder, and he needed both arms in good conditions for the first moment he could reach his swords.

Xxxx

The king of the goblin was, Fíli decided, one of the most disgusting, vile and evil creatures he had ever seen. He looked preposterously hideous, with a sort of crop under his mouth that swung and wobbled at his every movement and even breath.

Xxxx

Fíli did not like goblins’ songs.

Xxxx

As much as Fíli did not like to hear that a certain pale orc who rode a white warg and answered to the name of Azog was still alive and kicking, he was ready to bet that uncle Thorin liked that news even less than he did.

Xxxx

Kíli wanted to slay that giant, obese monster of a goblin with his bare hands, if only for the fear that appeared on uncle Thorin’s face, when the hideous creature spat his lies about Azog.

Xxxx

‘Wait, is he lying, or is it for serious? Is that disgusting scribe really leaving? Oh Mahal, is it real, is Azog back for real?!’ Kíli’s mind worked frantically.

Xxxx

“Orcrist!” shouted the king of the goblins, looking at Thorin’s blade with such fear that Fíli and Kíli could almost savor the moment.

“I changed my mind, slay them all!” the king of the goblins shouted.

Fíli shot a worried expression to Kíli. Kíli returned it.

Xxxx

Thank Mahal for Gandalf.


	10. In the Darkest Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the darkest cave under the mountains of the goblins our dwarven princes fall. And there, who do they find?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter totally invented: no trace of the movie or book in this one. Still the Ibun OC guy from earlier on. Kinda. 
> 
> No love here.
> 
> Additionally: someone might remember that Mim and his sons (of which Ibun was one) are pretty dwarves who betray the dwarves to Melkor. And Sauron/Mairon in more than one occasion transforms into vampire/bats.

He didn’t know how it had happened: one moment he and Kíli were running with the others, following in the trail that Gandalf opened with his staff and beacon of pure light that shone from its top, chased by a horde of goblins hot on their heels. The next one, the two of them were falling into the dark.

He remembered screaming, trying to reach out for Kíli, and managing to topple over, in the hope he would manage to land on his feet and not on his back.

Xxxx

Kíli opened his eyes first.

He groaned and tried to move. He hurt all over, but not so much as he would think he had broken something. It was unpleasant, but nothing he hadn’t already learned how to put up with.

He found himself flat on his stomach. Everything was pitch dark around him, and even with the heightened eyesight that nature had bestowed upon dwarves, he could barely see his hands.

But he remembered falling, and Fíli with him. He squinted in the darkness and managed to distinguish a body lying next to his, blond hair spilled all around it.

He pushed up on one elbow, wincing at the pain but finding not unbearable, and crept closer to Fíli’s body. He didn’t smell the stench of blood, but he still felt the need to check for a pulse on his brother’s neck. He reached around him with two fingers, placing them over an artery, and felt pure relief when he found a pulse. He shook Fíli, trying to rouse him but not to jostle him, since he still didn’t know whether he was injured or not. There was still the possibility he had hit his head, and Kíli would never know…

He called his brother’s name and exhaled in relief when he heard him moan and stir. Fìli shook his head, blond hair scattered around along with the movement, catching the almost nonexistent light in the cave.

He rose on one elbow, mimicking Kíli’s posture, and groaned, opening his eyes and searching around until he found Kíli’s.

“Are you alright?” Kíli asked.

Fíli nodded, wincing only slightly.

“Aye. Bit bruised, but nothing that feels broken” Fíli answered, pushing up to sit back on his knees.

Kíli did the same. They looked around, and tried to distinguish as much as they could of the place they were in. The darkness didn’t help, and there was little their eyes could take in. They could see little else than each other.

“Looks like just another cave” Kíli murmured.

Who knew whose, they thought.

“Aye” Fíli agreed.

“Aye, my princes” a voice from the dark agreed.

The brothers startled and jumped back against back. They looked around with wide eyes, trying to squint enough to see where this voice had come from.

It hadn’t murmured, but spoken loud, showing that its owner knew this place better than them. They didn’t like the disadvantage.

Fíli moved oh so slowly, and unsheathed one of his swords, keeping it in front of him, ready to strike.

A chuckle came from the dark, echoing against the walls of the cave and not letting them understand where its source was located. It didn’t sound friendly, but it didn’t sound too malicious, yet.

“Peace, my lords. I still mean you both no harm” said the voice.

Fíli frowned. This voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t bring himself to associate it with a face.

Kíli turned slowly to Fíli’s side, the direction the voice had come this time.

“…Ibun?” he called out, hesitating.

The sound of a crack and a small light appeared. It grew bigger but remained quite small, taking the form of some sort of a flame on top f what looked like a torch. It floated in the air and cast an eerie white light, and crackled like unnaturally white fire. It looked much different from Gandalf’s light, but it was obviously magic, too.

The light of the torch illuminated a figure, who stood leaning on the far side of the cave. They distinguished a face, and dwarf-like traits. However, even if Fíli now could remember the face that was associated with the voice, the creature standing not too far from them didn’t look like Ibun at all. It still looked male, and could still pass for a dwarf, but there was something warped about his face, and a sinister, twisted light in the eyes that almost shone in the darkness. He looked small, shorter than what Ibun had been, and his smile had a wilderness that creeped them both.

The smile widened, and the light of the magic torch revealed teeth so sharp they looked more like fangs, and so white they had the same color of the marble.

“Aye, my princes. I know I look different from what you remember. You must forgive me, I didn’t mean to lie to you, when I approached you in my other aspect” the voice said.

It was clearly Ibun, Fíli had no doubt.

“Is this your real form?” he asked, voice firm but not impolite yet. He tightened his grasp on the hilt of his sword.

“Aye” came Ibun’s reply.

“Why did you use another form?” Fíli asked again, not even really knowing why he was asking.

A part of him evidently found it better to stall, to buy time.

Kíli’s hand crept up along Fíli’s arm and chest, slithering under his shirt where he knew a dagger was stored hidden, and retrieved it. Fíli allowed him, realizing that his brother must have been otherwise unarmed.

Ibun chuckled, obviously noticing. His shiny eyes must have been made for the darkness, Fíli thought. There was something sinister about them, with the pupils so narrow and long, almost elongated as those of a snake. His feelings of approaching danger intensified.

“I had to approach you. I saw two young, handsome dwarves, I thought I could have my way with you. It was only after a while that I realized what precious gift fate had made me… and look at the two of you. You are still so cute. Or perhaps I should use another word, should I?”

His fang-like teeth shone under the light when his smile widened. The words made the brothers uncomfortable, and Kíli turned fully, plastering himself right behind Kíli’s back to protect him, but also leaving him enough room to allow him movement.

“Aye, you two are… delicious” Ibun continued, murmuring to himself.

A dark hunger shone in the eyes, that if possible shone with even more intensity. The princes could see them without help of the torch, at this point. The slit pupils and the way the eyes were trained on them made their blood run cold.

Fíli was caught by a realization so sudden he almost startled.

“Ibun. You aren’t a dwarf at all, are you?” he asked, even if he knew well the answer to that.

Ibun chuckled.

“My prince, you already know that” he said.

“If you were, your eyes wouldn’t shine like that. You seem well accustomed to this dark, too” Fíli mused out loud, voice reasonable and polite, but not friendly, and, if possible, with a hint of command.

Ibun tilted his head to the side, smiling wider, then chuckled again.

“Aye, I am. I apologize for the lack of brighter light. You must find it uncomfortable. You know how poor we creature of the dark fare with it”

Behind Fíli, Kíli tensed. Fíli, however, already suspected what Ibun’s real nature was, and didn’t react at all.

“Since when have you stopped being the dwarf you were, Ibun? If that even is your name”

“That is my name, your grace. And I have been... more, than a dwarf, for more than you could imagine” he answered.

He seemed somewhat proud at the statement, and Fíli imagined that he didn’t have many chances to preen and brag, in here.

If he was a creature of the darkness, and if he really was what Fíli thought he was, he was probably stronger than the goblins, but they were so many, and he only one. He probably lived alone, and hunted those who talked to. The sudden image of the mysterious bodies they had found close to the tavern where they met Ibun floated up in Fíli’s memory. They hadn’t been able to figure out why the bodies of two grown up dwarves were left burned and still fuming in an alley.

Now Fíli suspected he knew the reason.

“What are you?” Kíli asked, in a much harsher tone.

Ibun smiled and didn’t answer. For Fíli, it was enough to know he was right.

“I didn’t know there were still some of your kind left” he said.

Ibun’s smile hardened into a ferocious grin.

“Not all of us have perished, as you can see” he answered.

“I see” Fíli agreed.

“I also see that you could have easily killed me, and Kíli as well, and didn’t”

“You assume too easily that I will not do it just now” Ibun replied.

“I don’t think you will. You would have already. I wonder why, though” Fíli went on.

Ibun looked at him, serious and silent, for a long moment. Then he smiled again, less hostile, if not friendly.

“I had… reasons to distance myself from what was my people, in the past. It… didn’t end well. I will not make the same mistake twice. I will not harm the princes of what once was my nation”

“You’re lying” Kíli said, loud and angry: “you’re lying, and I would like to know why. If there is only you and us, here, why won’t you tell us the truth?”

Fíli didn’t utter a word. He hadn’t picked on the lie, but he believed Kíli, if he thought he had seen one.

“You are right, my prince. But I still keep my truth to myself. Be content with knowing I will not harm you. Not now, not here” Ibun answered, without smile at all.

“The map you gave us” Kíli insisted: “what was it for?”

Ibun’s eyes twinkled with an odd light. Less creepy than the hunger they had shone shortly before with, but still ambiguous, and for them almost impossible to decipher.

“Have you kept it?” he asked with a soft voice.

“We have” Kíli answered.

He had softened his voice and looked at Ibun with a face that Fíli couldn’t see, since he was right in front of his brother, but he recognized it well enough. And he couldn’t believe Kíli would use that voice with a creature that could potentially kill them in an instant. Because Fíli knew Kíli had caught on what Ibun’s nature was. So why using this soft voice, almost as if Ibun was a lover they needed to lure in, and exploit? Did Kíli not realize he was playing with fire?

Ibun looked like he had well understood Kíli’s game, but was affected by it, anyway. His eyes shone again with hunger, but not malice.

“I cannot guide you out of this darkness. But if you have the map, you have all you will need. The torch, even if it offers you only poor light, will follow you. Fare well, my princes. I would wish you luck, if my nature was to wish well to those I speak to”

They could see him push up from the wall he was leaning against, and tensed for a moment. He didn’t approach, them, though.

He just smiled again, a smile that took an a shade that almost looked like longing, and shook his head.

“I can wish you never to meet me again, though. For next time, my princes, I will be your enemy” they heard his voice say, but the eyes had disappeared.

Xxxx

They waited a few long moments in the dark, but neither the voice nor the eyes reappeared. The torch, however, stayed, as Ibun had said.

“Do you think he’s gone?” Kíli asked hesitantly in a whisper.

Fíli waited for a long time before answering.

“I guess he is”

Xxxx

They walked, Kíli holding the map open in front of them, the magic torch floating between their heads, casting a pale light barely sufficient to distinguish what was on the map.

“Do you think he really was a vampire?” Kíli asked, again in a whisper.

Fíli shook his shoulders.

“Let’s focus on getting out of here, brother”

Xxxx

“Do you?” Kíli asked again, when the end of the tunnel was finally visible and lights of the moon streamed in from the opening.

The torch disappeared.

“I do” Fíli answered in a whisper.

He didn’t feel comfortable discussing Ibun’s nature and darkness before they made it out, but he felt he owned Kíli an answer.

“Why did you keep the map?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Kíli looked at the light coming from the end of the tunnel.

“I don’t know. I had a feeling. And I guess something on the map itself told me it was a good idea to keep it for the future”

Fíli snorted.

“Good thing you did”

Xxxx

They caught up with the others, who came in running like mads and with goblins still in hot pursuit.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to have noticed they had been missing.


	11. Be Cooler, Run Faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following movie/book. You know what's coming. Orcs, Azog, a falling tree, eagles, Thorin finally getting his shit together, and Beorn.
> 
> Or: Master Baggins standing his ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of Durincest if you squint, and Thilbo/Bagginshield.

Balin looked at them the tiniest bit suspiciously, or maybe surprised, but there was just so much time he could spare looking at the princes before he remembered they were still pursued by an incredible number of goblins.

The brothers rejoined the company and run along with them, and they all stepped out of the mouth of that cursed mountain all together, as together they had run inside.

It felt they had done nothing but running, under this mountain. It was odd, Fíli thought, when he had more than two seconds of time to spare for breathing instead of deciding which way to swing his swords to cut off their deformed pursuers. It was odd, that dwarves who lived in mountains and were on a journey to free a mountain from a dragon had done nothing but run from enemies, under this other one.

“Fíli, Kíli!” Thorin called their names, and marched to where they were standing, Orcrist still firmly in place in his hand and the scowl of a true king.

Thorin hugged them with the single arm he still had free, and ruffled Kíli’s head.

“I lost sight of you two inside that blasted cave” he confessed, not bothering to hide the relief he must be feeling.

“We fell into another one, a dark one. We had to find our way out” Fíli said, seeing no point in not telling the truth. At least part of it.

It was probably better never to mention Ibun to his uncle, or anyone else.

Bofur and Bifur shook each other’s shoulder and Bombur hugged them both. Balin nodded to Dwalin with warm eyes. Dori scooped Ori up into a bone-crushing hug that Nori escaped from by ferreting his way out his brother’s big arms at the very last second.

“Where is our burglar?” Balin asked.

Dori put Ori down, looking crestfallen.

“Oh, I… Thorin, I apologize, I lost sight of him” he said, looking around, his panic increasing more and more as he realized that their hobbit was nowhere in sight.

“It is not on you, Dori, I lost sight of my own nephews” Thorin replied, even if it did little to settle Dori’s agitation.

“Yes, but where is he?” Bofur asked.

“You pushed him down so that the goblins did not notice him, didn’t you” Bifur said to his brother, and speaking in a Khuzdul so fast and heavily accented that the others barely understood his words.

“Aye, but then?” Bofur insisted.

“I think I’ve seen him slinking away” Nori said, looking careful.

“Then he must have abandoned us” Thorin concluded, his eyes stormy and expression hard.

Fíli and Kíli shared an exasperated look and sighed softly.

“He must have seen the chance to get away and taken it. Good riddance!” Thorin went on, even if he was still looking around, carefully watching and searching, despite his angry expression.

“He must have gone back to his books, and his gardens, and his chair. He had no place with us, anyway. Better he stays at his comfortable and safe home!” he declared, standing still once his eyes couldn’t help him find the burglar he had obviously been trying to find and prove him wrong.

“Ah, no, not quite” came a voice from behind Fíli and Kíli, that made both brothers jump and turn around.

“Bilbo!” Kíli exclaimed with a broad smile.

“How did you get past the goblins?” Fíli asked, smiling in relief to see the hobbit safe and apparently unarmed. Even if he did of course look a bit crossed at having just been called a coward by his actual employer, and after hearing him saying for the second or third time (the brothers had lost count) that he didn’t belong with the company.

“Yes, yes I’m here. Still here, I must say” Bilbo said, in a plain tone that wasn’t aggressive but wasn’t exactly his calm and polite tone either.

Fíli and Kíli parted, to allow him the space he needed to make eye contact with the rest of the company, Gandalf and Thorin included.

The wizard smiled warmly at him.

Thorin didn’t. He looked as thunderous as he had before, and possibly even more, for having been proved wrong in front of everyone.

“But, why did you come back?” Nori asked, genuinely curious.

“Because I wanted to” Bilbo answered, without even a hint of the sarcasm he could have used.

“Because it is true, I could leave, go back to my home, my comfortable chair and book and my lovely garden, which you heathens seem to be unable to appreciate. I could have. But I chose not to. Because I know how important this quest is for you, and that you get your home back. Because I love my home very much, and I want to do all that is in my power to help you claim Erebor back. And because I know I am the only one who can help you with the dragon”

Fíli and Kíli felt two bloody fools, beaming like that to their hobbit, but they were sure they weren’t the only ones. In fact, the Ur and Ri brothers were sharing the same expressions, Nori included. Even Balin was smiling fondly at the halfling.

Dwalin was the only one who, beside Thorin, still wore a gruff expression. But even he let a very, very small smile creep up on his lips, when Bilbo was done with his speech.

Gandalf was practically beaming, under the tilted brim of his pointy hat.

Thorin opened his mouth, no doubt to try and save face with a scathing retort of unbelievable rudeness, but, for good or bad luck, he was interrupted in such attempt by a very loud horn going off in the distance. One that the dwarves had grown to recognize and, if not fear, definitely not like.

“Orcs!” Dwalin exclaimed, hand running to his axe.

“We cannot face them. We must run!” Thorin told him, raising a hand to stop him from even getting his weapon.

“We can hide on the trees!” Fíli suggested.

He pointed in the direction of the group of firs that occupied the remaining side of the mountain, before the cliff. The only other choices were going back inside the cursed mountain of the goblins, jumping down the cliff, or running towards the only remaining path. Which was where the orcs were coming from.

The dwarves run to the trees. In a few bounces and leaps they were all safely hidden, all quiet and graceful movements, which were a surprise when they were performed by a dwarf of the size of Bombur.

Gandalf had already climbed up one of the firs, but the hobbit still stood, facing the direction the orcs where coming from.

Kíli, all grace and silent and long limbs moving, grabbed a branch of a tree and hoisted himself up. Then he offered a hand to Fíli, who took it and used the push from his running to jump upwards and climb up. Kíli still hold his hand, and the force of the leap sent Fíli crashing straight into Kíli’s chest.

He beamed and wiggled his eyebrows, refraining from making the ‘damsel in distress’ joke only because of the situation they found themselves in.

Fíli scowled at him, then looked down, where the hobbit was currently looking around with a wild and scared expression, puzzled at the sudden disappearance of the dwarves.

He reached down and grabbed at the collar of Master Baggins’ shirt, and hoisted him up in one swift drag. The halfling landed in Kíli’s arms, who caught him and helped him to one of the higher branches.

The orcs arrived, snarling just like the wargs they rode. Their leader looked different from the time before, and Fíli and Kíli took in the pale color of his skin and the hook that replaced one of his hand. They could imagine what their uncle must be feeling in that very moment, at seeing his old enemy standing in front of him. With the upper hand for strength and strategic position. With a pack of wargs and other orcs, when Thorin only had his old oaken shield and Orcrist.

Kíli’s hand seized Fíli’s shoulder, enclosing it into a firm grasp that almost hurt. Fíli turned towards his brother, who was looking at Azog with fear clearly depicted on his face.

Fíli removed his hand from his shoulder and held it, intertwining his fingers.

Be brave, he was saying.

Kíli looked at him and swallowed, nodding slightly, then trained his eyes back to Azog, with a resolute and careful expression.

Fíli felt warm at that. It almost happened anymore, that he needed to encourage his brother, as he had done so often when they had been younger and Kíli just a dwarfling. It made him feel proud, that he was the one to help Kíli regain his courage, that he was the one Kíli confided in, the one he turned when he needed help and protection.

Then Fíli looked down, where the cursed orc was standing astride a white furred warg.

Xxxx

They were on top of trees, Fíli thought. Maybe fire hadn’t been a good idea.

Still, considering how high the wargs managed to jump, he felt inclined to try. He aimed at one of the orcs and threw his pinecone. He hit his target, but decided to just pass to Kíli the next ones, dedicating himself to putting fire to as many pinecones as possible. Kíli had amazing aim, and didn’t miss once, whether he was aiming at wargs or orcs.

Odd that for once safety was coming from fire.

Xxxx

Fíli and Kíli hung from the only remaining tree, the only way down blocked by the crackling fire, and so much for fire saving them.

Gandalf was trying to prevent Dori and Ori from falling down the cliff.

The tree bobbed terribly, its roots only barely keeping it still on the cliff. The dwarves that hung to it were left to rock over the terrifying emptiness of the gorge.

Fíli was desperately trying to hoist himself up enough to drag Kíli up with him, and then rush to where Dwalin looked very close to lose hold of the branch he and Balin hung to. Kíli tried his best to help, but there was nothing he could do, hanging from Fíli’s foot and swinging for the wind and at every movements Fíli made.

‘Is this when we die?’ Kíli asked himself, feeling a sudden, surprising calm starting to take over his mind.

Then they saw uncle Thorin, standing up on the trunk of the burning fir, unsheathe Orcrist and walk resolutely towards the pale orc.

Fíli and Kíli screamed, and Dwalin’s voice mixed with their.

Xxxx

Thorin’s shield, the famous oaken shield, shattered.

Thorin, hurt, fell on his knees.

Fíli had never wanted so bad to slay that fucking warg.

xxxx

“Bilbo! What are you doing!!”

Balin screamed from the top of his lungs. Dwalin struggled to switch hand to keep himself attached to the trunk of the fir. The Ri brothers swung dangerously from the top end of Gandalf’s staff, Nori and the Ur brothers were equally holding on for dear life not much farther.

Fíli felt like he was about to dislocate the shoulder of the arm he was using to hold himself and Kíli to the tree.

And Bilbo Baggins, Burglar extraordinaire, shorter than the shortest dwarf, run towards Azog the Defiler, his short sword brandished and swung around against the snouts of the wargs.

Azog laughed.

It didn’t prevent the dwarves to hear Thorin’s soft whimpering from the pain caused by the fangs of the wargs in his chest.

And Bilbo Baggins, burglar and not much more than the company’s mascot, slayed a warg and Azog’s lieutenant.

Xxxx

Thank Mahal for the eagles.

Fíli hung on to the neck of the one he and Kíli were astride of, using the arm that hurt the least, the one he had used to keep Kíli. His brother was shielding him, using both arms to keep himself to the neck of the giant bird, and at the same time bracketing Fíli against it.

“Fíli, do you think he is alive?” he asked in a whisper, dark eyes struggling to see their uncle, in the talons of a giant eagle.

“I don’t know” Fíli whispered back, looking in the same direction.

Kíli turned, pressed a kiss into Fíli’s temple, and then hid is face in the blond hair.

Fíli sneaked one arm around and used it to caress his younger brother’s dark hair, and tried to ignore the tears that spilled from Kíli’s eyes and dampened his shirt.

And most of all, he tried not to cry, himself, too.

Xxxx

The eagles flew them to a clearing, not too far and still in the right direction for the Lonely Mountain. Fíli and Kíli saw it from afar, wen they were still flying. The dwarves were dropped into a sort of clearing on top of a mountainous formation that wasn’t exactly the top of a mountain, but, most importantly, from where a path started, and led downwards.

The eagle that carried Thorin dropped him with the most care, as if it did not want to jostle its passenger. Thorin didn’t stir, didn’t move from where he was laid down.

Gandalf thanked the eagles, who flew away, and knelt to the dwarven king. He touched Thorin’s head and placed the top of his staff close to his head, muttering words and from time to time closing and opening his eyes. The dwarves didn’t utter a word. Balin hugged Master Baggins, who stood not too far. Dwalin mirrored his brother’s gesture, and Bilbo Baggins suddenly seemed so short and sad, bracketed by the dwarves warriors.

Opposite them, Fíli and Kíli stood. Fíli held Kíli between his arms, and Kíli, plastered against him, only kept his head turned towards the point where Thorin laid. He didn’t even bother try to hide traces of the tears, or the fact that he was basically hiding into Fíli’s embrace in his search for comfort.

Then whatever Gandalf was trying to do worked, because Thorin suddenly opened his eyes, making them all, Gandalf included, jump, and he gasped, taking in a long swallow of air.

Dwalin bolted to his side, and he and Gandalf helped the king into a sitting position.

Thorin looked around for a couple of wild seconds, then his eyes took in the poor, shivering hobbit in front of him.

He jumped to his feet before anyone could stop him, and he approached the poor burglar with his most terrifying and thunderous expression, finger splayed in front of him.

“You! What were you thinking!!”

“Thorin!” protested Balin.

“Uncle!” tried the princes, but the king shut them all off and ignored.

“You fool! Were you trying to get yourself killed? Haven’t I told you that you didn’t belong here, that you would be better off to your house!”

Master Baggins shivered, a livid expression of fear mixed to anger in his clear eyes.

Then Thorin’s face softened into one of the best looking, most delicate and just pleasantly nice smile anyone who knew him had ever witnessed on his face, and he hugged the hobbit into a fierce bear hug, that shook the halfling completely, freezing him to the ground in surprise.

“Well, never I been more wrong!” Thorin said.

The hobbit beat his eyelashes, and everyone, dwarf or wizard, pretended not to see the tears that he was trying to fight, when he returned the hug just as fiercely and hid his face in the fur of Thorin’s coat.

Xxxx

The orcs were still behind them.

They run like they were running for their lives, which was exactly what they were doing.

Gandalf led them to a clearing, in the middle of which a small fort was.

Then they noticed the huge black bear that had scared the orcs away, and that was now chasing the company like the orcs had done till little before.

Fíli and Kíli slammed their shoulders into the closed door, Thorin and Dwalin joining. The door finally gave way, and they all struggled to close and barricade the door while keeping the bear outside.

Xxxx

“Gandalf, what was that!”

“That is Beorn, the master of this house. He is a shape shifter” the wizard explained.

Xxxx

They spent two nights and three days in Beorn’s house. What Fíli had taken for a small fort was actually the small house of a giant creature, the last shape shifter left on their world.

The owner of the house appeared in the early house of the morning, walking in through the door and pushing it open, as if it hadn’t been barricade at all. Gandalf approached them, excused himself and the dwarves for taking over his abode and asked for his hospitality.

Beorn didn’t make his contempt for dwarves a secret, but nevertheless he granted them hospitality, offered them food and provisions, and checked the wounds left on Thorin by the fangs of the wargs. He assisted òin as well, when the doctor insisted that he intended to check whatever wounds, even the small ones, that any member of the company has sustained during the journey so far. Beorn provided the old grumpy dwarf with all he asked for, and Fíli and Kíli had the feeling that the old, deaf dwarf was actually Beorn’s favorite, right after the hobbit.

The shape shifter seemed to think Gandalf as his equal, probably because they were both creatures in which magic lived. They discussed ta length, sitting outside the house, while Gandalf would smoke his pipe and Beorn tend to his beehives.

Fíli found their host an imposing and scary figure, but was also stricken at how soft and careful the man could be with the most delicate creature, like his bees. It was nice to see, and it was the detail that persuaded him to enjoy the time they spent in his land, and lower his guard.

He left his twin swords close to the spot on the hay that he was using as a bed, close to where Kíli also slept and had left his bow and quiver.

When Kíli noticed the swords were missing, he smiled his bright, mischievous smile and winked to him.


	12. In the land of the gods (we cross the line)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company members enjoy their time in Beorn's land. Two brothers in particular discover their call to art. Thorin relaxes. Bets are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely Durincest here. Mild Thilbo/Bagginshield.

Beorn’s land was… Kíli had no words to describe it. The vibrant colors of flowers and everything that was green, the luscious texture of petals and leaves, the way flowers and grass would bend, soft to the touch, under the fingers of whoever caressed it, everything stole Kíli’s breath away. There was beauty in this place, that could never be matched with the beauty of a jewel. Not even the legendary Arkenstone could reach this level of incomparable beauty: everything was alive and shone with it, and it was this life, this vitality that conferred to everything an almost divine nature.

Mahal’s spouse was the great Vala Yavanna: one the creator of the dwarven race, and the other the protector of everything green. Kíli, as any other dwarf, felt grateful to his divine father, and he loved everything that Mahal had granted the dwarves to find in the mountains. The jewels, the mithrin, the gold… But he could understand why there was reason to glorify his queen wife, too. Yavanna and her younger sister Vána, they both must have blessed this place. Only a divine hand could preserve this perfection untarnished, Kíli thought.

Beorn’s beehives were all abuzz and thrived with life, just like the fields where he had crop growing. The shifter had also farm animals scattered around, and a pack of dogs running errand around. If he considered that Beorn’s nature wasn’t entirely, or merely, human, Kíli really thought that this was a demonstration of how nature could carry on, with no human hand needed, at all.

This place was having a fantastic relaxing effect on the company, too. Kíli wasn’t blind, and he could see that it wasn’t just him the nature was mellowing under the warm, bright sun. Even Dwalin had discarded his axe and sword, and was going around with only a few knives hidden in his clothes. Mainly, though, he was lying around: a thing that the company found out was that, given a warm place to bask in the sun, Dwalin turned easily into a giant, dwarven-sized lizard, and slept in the sun for hours, with the top of his hood on his face or to shield his eyes.

Balin and Ori would often sit under trees together, the scribe book open and pens ready to be used. Balin would dictate Ori what exactly to write, embroidering their journey and bringing it to what an adventure could sound like. Ori would provide notes, remarks or voice different opinions, and they could argue about this or that other words at length, looking at each other with a softened air of not having a care in the world.

The Ur brothers, instead of being their lazy self, turned to a state of bright and cheerful excitement. They would often play and sing songs, carve small toys out of wood (but only the wood that Beorn would bring them for such use), and decorating or repairing every piece of furniture in their host’s house they deemed in need of reparation or decoration. Nori would sometimes join them, even though he spent most of his time sitting very close to them and judging their works.

Dori and the hobbit would entertain themselves with long and detailed conversation on flowers, vegetables they saw in Beorn’s garden, and methods of cultivating crop. They had this ways to discuss things that made Kíli and Fíli share glances and glares and smiles, and that caused both of them to often smother snickering fits behind each other when the topics was too odd and weird for them.

Glóin and Óin slept their time and ate whatever was served at Beorn’s impressively tall table.

Gandalf spent his time strolling with their host and challenging Dwalin to the best rendering of a lizard’s daily life. He could be found napping here and there, with or without his pipe, his long pointy hat propped on top of his face.

Thorin would also join him and Dwalin, but, among all of them, he was probably the one who stuck the least to just one occupation: he could doze off with Dwalin and the next hour be found sitting behind Bilbo, making faces at the chattering that went on right in front of him, and that he tried to pretend he wasn’t listening to by putting up a show of being asleep behind the hobbit and Dori.

This gave Fíli and Kíli a considerable amount of free time. Nobody would follow them, track them, even look at them. Maybe Thorin, from time to time, especially during meals, but otherwise they had a lot of time for themselves. They bathed and dried themselves under the sun, Kíli braiding Fíli’s hair and moustaches, and Fíli combing through Kíli’s hair and redoing his one, single braid.

They would play music and sing with the Ur brothers, check on the woodwork they were doing, pet the dogs, play with the sheeps, and, all in all, they almost forgot how old they were, that they had become now warriors and killed and that there still so many daggers hidden under Fíli’s outer layer of clothes that were never there when they really were younger.

But they enjoyed it anyway, and probably did so especially because they knew it wouldn’t and couldn’t last.

They all increased their bets with Nori, who kept the purse, even if nobody trusted him to, while Glóin kept the notes on his record book, and Fíli and Kíli were often sent to spy on Thorin and Bilbo, whenever the two of them would remain alone, Dori busy conversing with others or sleeping and not around to discuss with Bilbo the property of chicory and spinach. To the utter delight and surprise of some of them, and to the horror of the others who had bet against such a friendship to be born, Bilbo and Thorin did, indeed, start to spend more and more time together.

Fíli and Kíli loved to be the first witness of that blossoming relationship. The way they could be the first to witness Thorin’s soft, small smiles that were finally coming back from where he had buried them. Smiles they hadn’t seen in so long they had almost forgotten how they looked on their uncle’s lips. Smiles that Master Baggins, burglar extraordinaire, had now stolen back from the depth they had been hidden into, and back into the world.

Kíli felt very warm at that. Proud, even. He hadn't done a single, bloody thing to bring those smiles back, but he still felt so incredibly proud, like a father that watches over a child reading the first words. Now Thorin was relearning something that he seemed to have long forgotten, something the princes had only barely seen one last time, when they had left their mother in Ered Luin. He was relearning smiles, and love, and how to be human and live, for more than just memories and pride and history. For more than duty and glory and an impendibg honorable death.

Fíli surprised the living daylight out of Kíli by kissing him on his neck. 

Kíli almost startled. Considering that they were hiding on the roof and had nestled behind one of the very large chimneys, he felt justified in the shriek he almost let out. And no Fíli, by the way, that was no shriek, just a very manly shout.

Kíli turned around and sat, keeping himself up with his hands and arms outstretched behind his back. He looked quizzically up at Fíli, then he brought one hand up, to touch the spot on his neck where Fíli had just laid his lips. 

His heart increased a bit. It had been too fast to really feel anything, and, not having anticipated the touch, even less the kiss, he had jumped away from Fíli, but, now that he thought about it, he wanted it again. He wanted to repeat it and see and feel how it was. He desperately wanted it again.

Fíli was right in front of him. He was exactly in the same position as he was when he'd kissed him, only before he was behind Kíli, and now he was before. He was leaning forward, if only slightly, and his blue year twinkled the way Kíli suspected his own were more used to.

His brother was smiling like he had a plan, a good one. Kíli knew that that expression was always followed by great ideas that brought a lot of fun.

But there was something else in those familiar eyes, the black pupils blown so wide they were eating away all the blue. He saw hunger, one that he wasn't accustomed to, and that he had seen in his brother's eyes only once... And he found the sight of it incredibly appealing.

"Hey, brother" he grinned, voice deep and hoarse.

Fíli grinned. He looked like a wolf ready to pounce his prey. And, even if Kíli generally disliked being pushed down, he thought he might like being Fíli's prey. He hadn't disliked last time, when Fíli had pinned him to the tree...

Kíli grinned back. He lowered himself on his elbows and opened his legs, inviting Fíli in the space that formed. He wasn't even sure if what he was doing, or if he was mimicking something he had seen, but Fíli didn't seem to mind, so he felt encouraged to go on.

"Hi brother" Fíli said in a whisper, voice purring and warm.

He placed one hand flat on Kíli's chest and pressed. Kíli followed the request and laid down, legs open, one knee bent and hands hovering awkwardly in the air.

Fíli bent down and crept in the v-shaped hollow space between Kíli's legs. He kept himself on hands and knees, his hair and beard spilling down in a blond tumble of golden glory.

Kíli looked up at him, breath hitching in the back of his throat and lips parted, waiting. When Fíli's grin spread wider, he snorted.

"What are you waiting for?" he tried egging him on.

Fíli chuckled, seemingly having a lot of fun and no hurry at all to kiss him or move from there. Only the dark, dilated pupils have him out.

"You, to beg" 

"I won't" came Kíli's automatic reply, even if he didn't feel that confident he wouldn't.

Fíli only grinned more.

"We shall see that, shall we not?" He murmured.

Kíli saw the movement even before Fíli made it, but didn't react. Fíli dove, and Kíli just clasped his hands on Fíli's shoulders. But Fíli wasn't aiming for his mouth, Kíli realized, and he was completely taken by surprise when he felt Fíli's lips on his neck, kissing him again.

He gasped.

"Sssht, brother" cooed Fíli, from his spot between Kíli's head and shoulder. He was holding him in place with one hand in his hair and the other on his chest.

"You have to stay quiet"

Kíli bit his lip. 

Fíli started peppering kisses on the same point, and then moved around, if only slightly so. He found Kíli's pulse and followed it, spearing it with the tip of his tongue.

Kíli ground his teeth.

Then Fíli flattened his tongue and followed the pulse, up. Kíli almost shouted. He clutched Fíli's shoulder with one hand and used the other to push his mouth shut, and to smother the sounds Fíli was ripping out of him. 

Fíli chuckled against his skin. Kíli shuddered at the feeling. Fíli lapped it away. 

Kíli groaned against his hand and rolled his eyes closed. He felt lost in pleasure, already. Fíli kissed, licked, nibbled his skin, and looked set on wrenching sounds out of Kíli. He tried to push down the moans, but it was impossible, under Fíli's ministrations. Fíli sucked his skin into his mouth and kept on until red love bites blossomed out. 

Kíli ground his teeth and dug his nails into Fíli's shoulders, baring his throat. Fíli moved along his neck up to his jaw, and switched side, repeating the same treatment.

Kíli was torn between moans and mewling sounds that escaped the hand he desperately pressed on his mouth. 

Fíli used the hand he had placed aimlessly on Kíli's chest to roam his body, while the other still kept him in place by his hair. He caressed his hip and dragged nails over his clothed abs, then he dug under the layers of cloth and repeated the movement of bare skin. Kíli gasped when he felt Fíli's nails on his chest, his fingers twisting lightly his nipple, then moving back to his hip.

Fíli grabbed his thigh and pressed it close to himself. Kíli used it to trap him against his body, the movement sending Fíli flat against Kíli and making their groins brush together. Kíli gasped, Fíli moaned, both taken by surprise.

Fíli started rutting against Kíli, pushing down his hips with Kíli trying to meet his every thrust. 

Fíli pushed up in his elbows and stood like that, hovering over Kíli. The new position allowed them better friction and the eye contact made the situation even more intimate.

"Kiss me" Kíli ordered.

Fíli obliged, diving in to kiss him, not wasting even a second to make fun of him for caving in.

Kíli sneaked both hands in Fíli's hair, using them to keep him down against him. They kissed with hunger and passion, movements that never halted, until Kíli came, right there, under his brother, head tipped back and Fíli still eating every sound he made.

When Kíli was done, Fíli stood on his knees and pushed up the rucked shirts he had pushed up before. He exposed a good part of Kíli's chest, especially the one where he found a pearly white mess. He undid his pants and grabbed himself, jacking off in quick, short movements. 

Kíli couldn't believe the sight, and he would have not closed his eyes for all the gold in Erebor. He watched his brother jerk off, looking like a golden god, and he watched him bend his head backward and come.

Towering over Kíli, and coming exactly on him, his spent mixing to the seed already on Kíli's stomach. 

Fíli's head fell forward again, and his eyes found the mess they'd made on his younger brother's body. His fingers reached out and smeared it together, his own cum and Kíli's, as if Fíli was painting and Kíli was the canvas.

They looked at each other, the nagging feeling of having crossed a line, having done something wrong or bad creeping on each other's face.

And they shrugged it off.

"Good?" Fíli asked, a soft, warm murmurs and a slight smug smile.

Kíli grinned.

"The best so far"

Fíli smiled and nodded.

"I agree"

'You looked beautiful' Kíli thought, and didn't say.

'You looked mine' Fíli thought, just to himself.

Kíli wiggled his eyebrows, then he stood on his elbows and pointed with his chin to his stomach.

"Why am I the only one who got dirty?" he complained.

Fíli tucked himself back and chuckled.

"Use your undershirt to wipe it off, then we can wash it. With this sun, it will dry in a second"

While Kíli followed the suggestion, Fíli looked around. From their hiding place on the roof, he could see everything on the ground, but nobody could see him and Kíli, protected as they were by the chimneys.

Still, he felt relieved at realizing that nobody could have seen them. He didn't want to think about what he and Kíli were doing - it was good, and he didn't want to think it was wrong. Of course, he wasn't an idiot, and he knew this was not just bordering, but stepping into incest area. 

But Fíli decided he had no intention to stop. 

There was nobody he trusted like Kíli, and he was quite sure Kíli felt the same.

Xxxx

Fíli had looked like a god. He had painted Kíli with his cum, and Kíli had adored every second of it.

Still, Kíli wasn't stupid. He knew what he was doing, and he knew very well that uncle Thorin wasn't going to like it, when he would find out. 

Because Kíli would sure Thorin would have found out, eventually. Thorin wasn't stupid, and neither were Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf, or even Nori and Bofur. The others, they might have taken longer, but Kíli knew that, anyway, soon or later even they would catch on.

But he didn't care. 

There were many pretty things in the world, and he loved the idea of seeing, and sharing, them with Fíli.

But like Fíli, there was only Fíli. Nothing else came close, and nothing else could compare.

Xxxx

Thorin pushed back a lock of Bilbo’s hair, tucking it behind the hobbit’s ear. Bilbo blushed, but held his stare, and they smiled at each other.

Then Thorin cleared his throat, stood and offered one hand to his burglar.

“We must set off. Morrow, I think. I want us to leave right after dawn. We are very close to Mirkwood, and I want to walk as much as possible of that forest before dark comes”

The hobbit pursed his lips together in a thoughtful expression, and turned towards the trees of the forest, not too far from Beorn’s land.

“No, no, I wouldn’t recommend it either. That forest really gives me a terrible feeling. Not good sign at all”

“I should trust a gardener’s feeling on a forest” Thorin said, with a light voice that almost turned the sarcasm into sweet. Or maybe it was the warm smile that followed the statement that gave that idea.

Bilbo didn’t even scowl at him, just snorted and nodded.

“Yes, yes you should”

Xxxx

“Does this count as flirting?” Bofur asked in a murmur.

Thorin and the hobbit were already walking away, but he preferred not to give out his hiding spot among the bushes.

“I don’t see why not” Nori replied, shaking his shoulders.

“Mmm. Very well” the miner said.

They pushed themselves off from the ground they had flattened themselves to, and walked back towards Beorn’s house. It was almost supper time, and, from what they had just heard, they needed to pack right after eating.

“What about the princes? You said that that bet isn’t open to anyone” Bofur asked again, keeping his voice purposefully low, so that only Nori beside him could hear.

“Aye. Their uncle doesn’t want people to know, unless they figure it out by themselves. Just like you and me did. Well, and Thorin, and Balin and Dwalin”

Bofur snorted: “He’s taking it quite nicely, isn’t he. Afterall, not only they are his nephews, but also his heirs. Royalties. I would have expected him to make their life much more miserable for that”

Nori shrugged.

“I have a feeling he’s too scared they won’t survive the quest, to tarp their wings and raise big words to condemn them. I say let love makes you love whoever the fuck you want. They aren’t hurting anybody. And, let’s be honest: those two? One at least will secure an heir for the Durin’s line, for sure”

They snickered together.

“So, does this mean I can join?” Bofur asked.

“Sure. What do you want to bet?” Nori asked.

“That depends. What are the bets already open?”

“Dwalin and Thorin say that Fíli will confess first, and that he might even try to make it official. Balin says that Kíli will confess first, and only after a lot of fooling around before that”

“And you?” Bofur asked again.

Nori grinned: “I’m the referee, I can’t bet”

Bofur chuckled.

“Add me to Balin’s side. I have a feeling those two will do a lot of experimenting before speaking of love…”


	13. Into The Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company approaches and enters Mirkwood, and nobody is happy about that. Fíli and Kíli love their own nightmares. Thorin too. But, what is better, hallucinating their own demons, or spiders and elves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durincest, heavy but in a dream. Kind of. Vague hint to Thorin added in that mix.  
> Tauriel shows up.

Kíli saddled his pony. At his right, Fíli was busy tightening the buckle of the girth and securing the saddlebags. He had insisted supervising while Kíli had tended to his own, and now he was hastily catching up with the rest of the company. Only the hobbit was still fidgeting on the ground.

Fíli mounted his pony and took a firm hold on the bridle in one hand. He rested the other on his thigh and smiled at Kíli. He returned it and nodded with his chin in direction of their burglar, who was still on the ground and turned to Beorn and Gandalf, deep in talk. A bit further on his left, Thorin was already astride his pony and scowled at the back of the halfling’s head.

The princes snickered, but Thorin didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. They weren’t the only ones, anyway: everyone else but Gandalf was already on their saddle, and many of them were watching with amused expression the silent and single-directional interaction between their king and the hobbit.

Thorin looked beyond Bilbo and met Gandalf’s eyes.

The bluish grey iris twinkled as the wizard nodded imperceptibly, without interrupting Bilbo’s long monologue on roses and cornflowers’ sowing time.

Thorin nodded sharply to Dwalin.

Dwalin bent forwards on his saddle, reaching out with one big hand for the neck of the coat the hobbit was wearing, and lifted him up. Thorin pulled the hobbit’s pony close to them, and Dwalin all but deposited the hobbit on the saddle.

Master Baggins raised loud protests for the rude treatment, his words not entirely drown out by the laughter that exploded from everyone, dwarf or wizard. Even Beorn chuckled, shaking his head and looking at the hobbit with a fond expression.

“You should hurry” Gandalf said at last.

“So, you are not coming with us” Thorin said, with a hint of apprehension in his scowl.

Not that anyone but those who knew him well noticed. Which meant half the company, since it included the princes, Balin and Dwalin, Gandalf himself, and possibly even their hobbit.

Gandalf shook his head with a clear smile: “I am not. I will meet you soon. There are things that I have to see with my own eyes, understand if what we fear is really happening” he explained, his words only partly the riddle they used to be, but not exactly self-explicative.

“You are traveling to the mountain of the Necromancer” Thorin said, surprising Balin and Dwalin, and maybe even Gandalf, with his perceptiveness.

“Aye, I am” Gandalf replied, nodding with a sharp light in his eyes.

“Where will we meet you?” asked the hobbit.

“Before entering the mountain, I will join you. Do not enter Erebor without me” he replied, adding the last bit with a deep look towards Thorin.

He nodded brusquely and turned his pony.

“We ride towards Mirkwood” the king said to the rest of the company, and, if they thought nobody needed it made clear, they didn’t utter a word, but only nodded and followed.

Master Baggins turned to wave to Beorn and Gandalf, and when he turned back forwards his eyes were full of worry and concern.

“Forget whatever ails you, master burglar!” Bofur said, with a big smile: “you still have the company of thirteen dwarves with you!”

The hobbit chuckled: “Yes, Bofur, that is exactly what ails me”

The princes laughed.

“Are thirteen dwarves such a difficult company for one single hobbit?” Kíli asked, tilting his head slightly so in a way that he knew was kind of adorable, even if he was definitely too old to pull this move.

Fíli shook his head: he knew that trick all too well.

The hobbit, though, smiled wickedly: “Don’t you make that puppy face at me, young sir. I am all too familiar with young hobbit kits doing exactly the same expression. I know what you are out to do!”

“And what might that be?” asked Kíli, partly still playing his game, but partly also in honest surprise and curiosity.

Master Baggins pushed his weight down on his stirrups to stand up in an almost standing position, and looked at him with a knowing glare, index finger pointed towards the prince: “You are up to no good, like anyone with that face would be!”

Kíli made such an offended expression of ‘who, me’ that pushed Fíli into a long fit of laughter. Bofur must have found it funny, as well, since he and Nori also started to laugh at Kíli’s expenses.

“Master Baggins, you are quite good at reading the younglings’ real intentions, aren’t you?” Bombur asked, riding close to the hobbit.

“Well” the burglar shook his shoulders and smiled: “I suppose I am, but I am not that familiar with kits, so far. My cousins are going to be married soon, though, and they are my favorite part of the family. A bit too much into the Took side, mind you, but, I don’t care. I hope their child will be just as pleasant as them”

“And are hobbit younglings such rascals, that you can so easily read through our Kíli’s smiles?” Bofur asked, winking in the prince’s direction.

Kíli started protesting that he was no such a thing, but it was all ruined by the second fit of laughter that his protests ripped from his brother and the others, especially when Fíli started saying that yes, yes he was.

“I am not!” Kíli all but shouted, whipping around in Fíli’s direction and scowling at his laughing brother.

“Uncle!” Fíli sobered up and called: “Uncle, please, we need a referee. Would you call Kíli a rascal?”

Thorin didn’t even turn, but they could practically hear his smile, despite the gruff voice.

“Wouldn’t know what else to call him” he answered.

The dwarves laughed, everyone ignoring Kíli’s protests.

The laughter died down in fast seconds, as the eyes of every rider fell on the first trees of the forest of Mirkwood.

Dwalin snorted in contempt.

“Only elves could live in such a damned place. Mahal strike me if I lie, this forest looks sick”

Master Baggins, who was the one of them with the biggest experience in term of green sceneries, hummed out a long sound of agreement.

“This forest does look a bit sick, indeed” he mused.

“Ah, I couldn’t really say. Never liked greens anyway” Bofur commented, trying a smile to lighten up the mood and bright it to what it had been only minutes before.

However, he didn’t succeed, possibly because they were approaching the sinister dark green and twisty trees of the Mirkwood forest, or maybe because of the sheer aversion dwarves had for anything that reminded them of elves.

“Rivendell had been nicer than this place” Kíli said.

“I wish I could say something about not being surprised that you like elvish stuff” Fíli nodded: “but that is exactly the point”

“And even Beorn’s land was different. This place… it looks haunted” Ori mumbled.

“Aye, and Gandalf recommended us to pay attention” Balin said: “it isn’t unheard of forests that try to mislead those who enter them”

“Isn’t that fantastic” Kíli said.

“Did Gandalf mention anything about what we should expect?” Fíli asked.

Thorin fixed the outer layer of the forest with a glare.

“He said the forest will deceive us and mislead us. We will have to pay attention and be careful what we see”

“Hallucinations?” Dwalin asked with a side glance to his king.

Thorin nodded.

“Fantastic” Kíli grumbled.

“Aye, I love it when I can’t trust what I am seeing” Bofur said, and this time he managed to put a small smile on everyone’s lips.

Xxxx

They reached the forest.

Fíli felt all the alarms in his head setting off, all at the same time as soon as he stepped down his pony and set his foot on the ground right in front of the opening of the forest. He turned to see Kíli, and he found him staring with a scowl and a thoughtful expression towards the trees.

Yes, they weren’t going to enjoy this.

Xxxx

“Send the ponies back” Thorin send, and they did.

Then they turned, and they all hesitated a moment.

The forest was gloomy, dark, sinister. It rubbed them off in all the wrong way.

Thorin visibly took a long breath, and then he stepped forward, undertaking the path that winded in the forest.

The company followed: Dwalin, Balin, the princes, the hobbit, Ori, Dori, Óin and Glóin, Bombur, Bifur and Bofur, and Nori.

Xxxx

Fíli started hearing it almost immediately.

He cast a rapid glance around, especially to Kíli, but nobody seemed to hear the deep voice of their father calling him with all the insults that Fíli’s mind knew. And when the voice became their mother’s, crying and asking Fíli why he had to ruin his baby brother to a twisted abortion like himself, well, Fíli was sure that, had that been real, Kíli would have reacted. Thorin, too.

So he steeled himself against the voices, whispering to himself that they were just hallucinations when they became almost unbearable.

“Fíli” his mother’s voice wept: “Fíli, my beautiful blond golden child. What have you done? What have you done to yourself, what have you done to your brother? Is this the way you love? How could you, and with Thorin so close! Have you no shame, son of mine? Have you forgotten what you are? Do you think Durin’s eyes do not see what you are doing? Is that your plan, Fíli? Make Kíli yours, like a dwarven maiden? Would you do this injustice to your brother?”

Whatever was talking, Fíli reasoned that it must be accessing his own deepest thoughts and fears. No other way he knew so well and in such details what to say. It was difficult to ignore, but he pushed through.

In front of him, Kíli’s eyes darted often around, then hurried back to the path. He wondered what he was seeing, what everyone was seeing.

Xxxx

Kíli saw it the first time after a good half an hour deep into the forest. He blushed as soon as he realized what it was, and who it looked like.

It must come from his own mind, he knew.

The company had grown silent and weary, and all of them often would look around or behind, seeing things and hearing voices just as he was. He threw a very quick glance in Fíli’s direction and noticed his pained expressions. He definitely wasn’t seeing what Kíli was seeing. Or so he hoped.

Because Kíli, Kíli was actually seeing Fíli. Naked and beautiful, in all his golden glory, like he had been on the roof, but better.

And this Fíli would mutter all the possible kind of filth into his ear, or whisper them from where he stood, at his side.

It was unnerving and terribly embarrassing, hearing these proposals from Fíli’s evanescent double, with the real one right behind him. He felt terrible especially after noticing the expression on real-Fíli.

Why was he seeing this? Were these his secret thoughts?

He blushed wildly, when he realized they might be, and he might be really think what this hallucination was whispering to him.

"You play strong, and act like you could resist me, brother, but we both know you liked it, when I had you against that tree. You liked it, when I pushed you down under me. You made the most beautiful sounds, do you know?"

The ghost of Fíli tilted his head and the long blond hair spilled down his chest, mixing with his beard.

Kíli felt his cheeks heat but refused to look again in its direction.

"You whimpered and mewled like a kitten. And you loved it, being my kitten, didn't you, Kíli? My beautiful, beautiful younger brother. Moaning for me, moaning under me. You've got a filthy mind, haven't you? Thinking of your brother's cock"

Kíli dug his nails in the palm of his hands not to jump, when he heard false-Fíli say that word.

"Oh, yes, yes you are. You do think of me. Of my body. Every part of it. You'd love to feel me naked against you, wouldn't you?" 

Kíli felt a real bastard. Here he was, getting all flushed and bothered, and Fíli, the real Fíli, was right behind him. With a face that showed pain. 

Behind him stood the copy, no, the original version of the same naked, glorious body he was trying not to watch. And failing.

He knew Fíli's body. He knew it well. He'd seen it whenever they bathed or changed or were hurt. 

But he had seen Fíli's erected cock only once, and it had been that time on the roof, when Kíli had been sprawled under him, covered in his own cum. And then his brother had painted him in more white. 

Branding him.

Kíli repressed a shudder.

False-Fíli chuckled, a low, deep sound that went straight to Kíli's groin, and didn't help him with his forming erection.

He tried to think that Thorin was right there, so close, and so was Dwalin, and literally everyone else. It didn't help. He could feel all too well Fíli's presence behind him. The strong shoulders, arms, hands. The firm chest. That amazing, naturally skilled mouth.

The teeth and lips that had marked his neck, where Kíli had covered the signs with his hair and clothes.

Fíli had marked him.

"Yes, because you are mine. My little brother, my own pretty thing. My beautiful, slutty brother. Is there anything you'd tell me no to? You would take everything from me, wouldn't you"

Kíli repressed a moan. He focused on breathing normally. He knew anyone could notice his heated cheeks, but there was little he could do for that.

He tried to rebel. He wasn't a slut, he wasn't anyone's slut. And he certainly wouldn't submit to someone.

"But I'm not someone, am I, brother mine? I am your older brother. You always open up for me. Wouldn't you want to really feel me? To really open up for me? Take me in, Kíli, I could give you so much pleasure. I'd make you drown in it. Make you scream"

He gasped.

Fíli reached out and touched him, one strong hand on his shoulder. Kíli startled and turned, eyes blown wide and too afraid Fíli would read in them the truth of what he was seeing.

Maybe he did, because Kíli's blushing cheeks, dilated pupils, and mouth slightly parted couldn't mean anything but Kíli's state of arousal.

"You ok?" Fíli asked anyway.

"Look at you. You're practically eating me with your eyes. Kiss me, brother. Beg me to fuck you. Don't you want to touch me? Kneel in front of your big brother and suck my cock, Kíli" the ghost said.

Kíli swallowed and nodded.

"Hallucinations" he explained, in a tight, hoarse voice.

Fíli nodded and let him go.

Kíli turned again and started walking.

"You want me, Kíli" the ghost went on.

"You want me so much. There are so many things I could do to you. And then we could find another one, right? Play together with a pretty thing. Who do you want to share, brother? Uncle Thorin? The hobbit? Or a pretty elf?"

Kíli ground his teeth together.

"How long will it take before we manage out of this forsaken place?" He heard Bofur ask with a very pained expression from somewhere behind him.

"Aye, well said" Kíli muttered.

Xxxx 

Thorin hated this forest with a passion.

He kept hearing his grandfather's dying words. He would see the battle of Azalnubizar over and over, his grandfather slain by orcs. He would hear Azog's horrible voice, taunting him. Showing him his grandfather's head, a morbid trophy. 

Most of all, he kept hearing those words: "The line of Durin will die". 

He choked on fear and responsibility. He was growing weary with all the effort he had to make into focusing on the path. 

Dwalin said he was following the sun, and the path, but Thorin asked himself how often they had lost both. And, the sun? How could Dwalin see the sun, above the malicious twisting roof of branches?

And he was starting to feel watched. He wasn't sure it was just the hallucinations.

He kept his sword close to his hand, and missed fiercely his oaken shield. 

He refused to turn back and check on his nephews, and the hobbit, out of sheer stubbornness.

He wouldn't fall for the forest's spell.

Not more than he already had.

Xxxx

He distantly heard the hobbit's voice from very up, above the trees.

Fíli stopped in his tracks, and lifted his eyes.

The voices had given him a break, but maybe this was part of the hallucinations, too.

Then he saw Master Baggins fall down from the top of the trees and precipitate down.

He opened his mouth ready to shout, but noticed a very, very big shadow moving after the hobbit, and many others all too similar creeping at incredible speed towards them.

"Incoming!" he shouted.

"Spiders! It's fucking spiders!" Kíli shouted, bow in one hand and firing arrow after arrow in the spiders giant body. He aimed for the eyes, the red and black eyes that looked made of gelatinous substance. The arrows penetrated easily and the spiders shrieked.

Fíli lost sight on the hobbit, too busy fighting off the creatures with his swords.

Then he saw Bofur, Bifur and Dori being stung and fall to the ground. He shouted and turned to fend off a big spider from him and Kíli, but felt a stabbing pain in the middle of his back, and his body went rigid.

He heard Kíli scream his name, then nothing more.

Xxxx

The hobbit freed them, tearing apart the webs and the cocoons the spiders had wrapped them into.

The company swung swords left and right, fighting off the giant creatures, but they were still slow and stiff for the previous dose of poison and couldn't defend themselves as they would have normally do. 

Then the elves appeared: tall, slim bodies, wielding bows and swords, slashing the spiders apart and tearing them to pieces.

Fíli turned and shouted to Kíli, but a green clad redhead elf shot two arrows in the body of the spider that loomed over him.

The elf flew and danced a killer dance, bringing down three spiders all alone, and ignored Kíli's demand for a weapon.

"If you think I'll give a weapon to you, dwarf, you better think again!" the elf shouted.

Fíli saw the moment Kíli's eyes went wide, and he followed his brother's stare on the elf.

Who was definitely a she.

And the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Xxxx

Thorin didn't appreciate, when that damned, blond elf took away his sword.


	14. In and Out of the Wooden Realm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli plays, Fíli worries, Bilbo gains points with Thorin, Fíli is an acute observer of elves and aren't they pretty, barrels are made to float and roll away, Kíli plays hero and Fíli worries some more.
> 
> Yes, that's all about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge chapter!! Maybe too much?
> 
> Kíli/Tauriel + Fíli/Kíli + hint of maybe something, one-sided and still only an idea.  
> Bagginshield in progress.
> 
> The cells + the barrels + the river scenes
> 
> Also: yes, I have no idea how to spell merrisomething. And I don't know what Thorin basically says. I'm sure it's worse than this, but, allow me, ok?

The redhead elf was definitely female, Fíli noticed. He could see the swelling of breasts under her green clothes and she had a narrower waist than others. Her clothes were different, too: the rest of the guards wore clothes in a darker shade of green, that lacked the thin embroidery in silver that only she and the blond male elf had.  
She was definitely pretty, with fair skin and impossibly long hair. It was the first time that Fíli ever saw that shade of red, too, and he loved the way she moved, the way she fought, the way he had seen her moved when she had killed those spiders. All alone, with no help needed. She was definitely stronger than she looked. Then again, so were many elves.

Even the blond one standing in front of the other, the one that had taken Thorin’s sword and was now insulting him, calling him a thief and a liar, looked much more delicate than he must have been. And him, too, was admittedly a beauty to witness. Fíli had never seen hair so blond it was almost white. It made Fíli think of snow and cold, but at the same time it shone radiant under the light, and invested the elf in an air of purity that contrasted with the very earthly, almost cruel smirk he was facing Thorin with.

He was obviously a male, slim but toned, agile and quick fingered like any other elf Fíli had ever seen. He was also the one highest in rank, and the leader of the group. If Fíli wasn’t mistaken, and if the word didn’t have any other meaning in the elvish language, his name was Legolas.

He ordered something in elvish and then repeated it in Common, obviously so that the company of dwarves could understand his order to lead them away. Fíli went behind Kíli, walking very close to his brother, keeping more attention than what he was doing on their surroundings. The redheaded elf that Kíli couldn’t keep his eyes off from was really a beauty, but Fíli was more concerned on the danger they were actually in.

“Thorin! Where’s Bilbo?” Bofur whispered hastily to the dwarven king.

Thorin looked around, suddenly hit by the realization that his burglar wasn’t with them, but didn’t utter a word.

Fíli recognized his expression, though: he knew how hard his uncle was hoping that Master Baggins was somewhere safe.

Xxxx

The elves led them along the path till they reached the door of the Mirkwood kingdom. Fíli saw high walls and a fine decorated door, engraved in gold and silver. Guards stood by it, and they saluted the blond leader of the patrolling squad when he arrived. This suggested the possibility that he was of an even higher rank that Fíli had anticipated.

The guards saluted the redheaded elf, too, and she nodded to them.

Kìli turned to Fíli and seemed to realize what had happened only in that moment.

“What in Mahal’s name!” he whispered.

“Oh, so you can still see something that it’s not red haired elves?” Fíli taunted him with a smirk.

“What!” Kíli blushed: “how can you make a joke when we’re in this situation!”

“Brother, in case you hadn’t noticed, we were in this situation also before. You have only just realized” he retorted.

Kíli opened his mouth but didn’t say a word.

The elvish guards pushed the dwarves forwards, directing them up along the path that winded through bushes and clearings up to the first steps of a very tall staircase. Fíli couldn’t even see where it might have ended.

“They are taking us to the royal palace” Balin muttered behind them.

Fíli and Kíli turned towards him.

“What?”

Balin nodded, his eyes worried and relaxed at the same time.

“The hall of king Thranduil. Not a good sign, lads. We won’t have many chances to get away”

Kíli and Fíli shared a look.

They didn’t have the chance to exchange more words, as one of the guards shoved them and ordered them to remain quiet.

The company was taken to the cells. They were all separated, with the only exception of Dori, who stuck so close to Ori he basically growled at the elf that tried to pry from him, and Óin and Glóin, with Óin gesturing to the guard that his only way to hear what was going on was through his brother.

An elf shoved Dwalin forward. He shoved the elf back, so hard he almost tumbled on the floor. The dwarf smirked and stepped into the cell, making a show of playing along. Fíli was pushed towards the open door, then stopped, twisted and turned, searched again, and the guard snorted and cussed when he found more knives on him. The prince smirked innocently and opened his coat, showing that he was now disarmed. The elf swore more loudly and took also the dagger that Fíli kept hidden under his hair, then he pushed him inside.

Kíli watched, half amused and half with hands hitching to help his brother. The redheaded elf, the female captain of the guard, pushed him inside a cell nearby Fíli’s, but she didn’t make a move as to search him.

He lifted an eyebrow.

He couldn’t hold his tongue still. It would probably put a nice blush on the elf’s cheeks, too, and he loved the idea of making her uncomfortable.

For more than a reason.

“Aren’t you going to search me?” he asked, innocently and almost expectantly: “I could have anything down my trousers”

The elf looked taken aback only for a second, then she smirked, not really too put off from the nerve Kíli had just shown.

“Or nothing” she retorted and slammed the door of the cell shut.

She walked away briskly, the blond elf glaring now to Kíli, then to her.

Kíli wiggled his eyebrows to himself and heard Fíli chuckling from the cell next to his.

“You really had to say that, hadn’t you?” he asked in good will.

Kíli smirked back. If he pushed his face against the bars, he could see a bit of Fíli’s face. Mostly his golden hair.

“Hey” he said.

“Hi” Fíli replied.

“How long do you think we will stay here?” he asked.

Fíli pursed his lips.

“I don’t know. Depends on how strong these doors are” he answered.

“Let us test then” Dwalin grumbled, and made a move to slam against the bars, but two guards appeared again on the stairs.

They reached Thorin’s cell and took him out, leading him back up the stairs.

“Thorin!” Bofur called.

“They’re probably taking him to Thranduil” Balin said, loud enough that Thorin could hear him.

As soon as the guards were out of sight, Dwalin rammed against the bars.

Fíli did the same, and Glóin too.

Kíli tried kicking them, even if they looked way too sturdy even for Dwalin’s brute strength.

“I suggest you give up, lads” Balin’s voice echoed: “These aren’t orcs’ cells. These are elvish made. There is now ay out from here, unless with the will of the king”

“Why would he let us out, he just out us here!” Nori deadpanned.

Balin shook his head: “That depends from what he wants from Thorin, I assume”

“Are you implying we have to rely on Thorin’s diplomatic skills, now?” Dwalin asked, and nobody missed the thick layer of sarcasm.

Balin nodded, just as skeptical and resigned: “Aye, brother”.

“So, we’re stuck here, forever” Nori translated.

“Aye” Dwalin said.

xxxx

Thorin was brought back, too short after. The guards shoved him back into the cell too rudely and they slammed the door shut with too much force to bear good news, the members of the company thought, watching wearily.

Balin grabbed the bars and sighed patiently, hoping in vain, and fully aware that he was hoping in vain.

“Did the king offer you a deal?” he asked.

“Aye, he did” Thorin replied, voice tight and full of venom.

“… Did you accept?” Balin asked.

“No. And I told him he can rot in Mandos’ halls forever, him and his kin!” he shouted, the last part in particular.

Silence.

Fíli shook his head. So did Nori, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur.

Ori turned to Dori with sad eyes, and Dori just hugged him.

Balin nodded.

“That’s it, then. That was our only way out”

Fíli looked through the bars and met Kíli’s stare.

Kíli only shook his head, not ready to give up.

Xxxx

The captain of the guard walked down the stairs, again. Fíli had heard the blond elf call her Tauriel, but once again he couldn’t be sure that that wasn’t an actual elvish word for something, instead of her name.

She pretended not to be headed towards Kíli’s cell, but failed spectacularly at it. Fíli grinned, thinking again at the opportunities this would open to both of them.

He had wondered, during their walk for the elven kingdom, whether the elf meant he would lose Kíli, his attention, and their … special time together. And yet, with the way Kíli had reached out for Fíli’s hand while still watching her, and with the way he had looked at him, a plan already spinning in his head – Fíli’s insecurities had burnt in a flash.

So he just watched her, walking to Kíli, where his younger brother was purposelessly throwing his runed stone up in the air and then catching it, making a show of being absolutely bored and uninterested at the approaching elf.

“The stone in your hand” she asked, standing close to the door of Kíli’s brother: “what is it?”

She leaned against the side of the cell door, unconsciously placing herself in the right spot that allowed Fíli to see every single detail of her. How tall she was, how pale, the light freckles she had on her cheeks, the way the tips of her ears disappeared under her hair. The way her body was thin and light but also supple and full.

Kíli answered with a gruff voice, and Fíli had to bite back a smirk.

“It is a talisman” he said, pretending it cost him much even to just deign her of an answer.

Fíli wondered when and where his younger brother had learned to play these games.

“A powerful spell is upon it. If anyone but a dwarf looked at the runes on this stone, they would be forever cursed!” he exclaimed, pointing the stone straight in the captain’s direction.

She almost backed away, eyes wide, then frowned, obviously not wanting to believe him, but doubting. Not wanting to risk it, Fíli guessed.

‘Would be too late already, my dear, if that was true’ Fíli mused.

The elf turned and made for leaving.

“Or not” Kíli hurried to add.

She turned again, and Fíli could see the way Kíli smiled, innocent and pretty.

“Depending on whether you believe this kind of things – it’s just a token” he smiled the way a young boy would, younger than he was.

She smiled back, and it looked unconscious, a reaction drawn out by Kíli’s sincerity, almost camaraderie.

“It’s a runed stone” he went on: “my mother gave it to me, so that I remember my promise”

He looked up to the elf and lifted a corner of his lips.

Fíli bit his thumb to stop smiling. Oh, but his kid brother was playing a very fine game, indeed!

“What promise?” the elf asked, smiling as if she knew he was playing a game, but she didn’t really mind.

“That I would come back to her” Kíli answered.

The captain smiled ruefully and lowered his gaze.

Kíli looked through the bars of the cell, and for a tiny fragment of a moment his eyes met Fíli’s. He saw the way Fíli’s eyes widened just a bit, and started talking again.

“She worries” he said.

He flipped the stone in his hand and looked again up to her.

“She think I’m reckless” he added.

Fíli moved his thumb away and directly bit his entire fist.

“Are you?” Tauriel asked, and it was basically as if she knew it was her turn to ask the question, and as if she didn’t mind playing her part in the game, at all.

Kíli smiled, the way he would to get away with something. Fíli had to turn back, or else he would have laughed.

“Nah” Kíli said, and flipped the stone high above his head.

The stone flew, strangely enough, out the cell, right through the bars, and would have fallen down the stairs, had Tauriel not stopped it by placing a foot on it.

Kíli jumped to the gate, watching her bring the stone up above herself and watch it.

Fíli didn’t know which one of them looked better, prettier, with those awed expressions.

“Sounds like quite a party they are having up there” Kíli said, and Fíli recognized the way Kíli was struggling to just say something, keep the conversation alive. Keep her in.

She turned and smiled.

Fíli caught every ray of light that she was reflecting with that smile, and understood why Kíli looked so full of wonder, almost reverence.

“It is merrithingeli, the feast of starlight. All lights are good, say the elders, but the one loved best is the light of the star” she explained.

Kíli swallowed. Fíli could understand why he looked like it was quite a feat.

“I always thought it is a cold light, remote and far away” he murmured.

Tauriel turned to him, looking at him as if he didn’t understand what he was saying. Like she had just remembered all of a sudden that she was an elf, and Kíli a dwarf, and there were millennia of different cultures among them, not just the bars of a cell door.

“It is memory, precious and pure” she corrected him.

She swallowed, looked down at the stone still in her hand, and smiled.

“Like your promise” she said, and handed it back.

Kíli took it, eyes locked in hers.

Fíli eyed her with admiration.

‘Looks like the pretty elf knows how to play back’ he thought to himself.

She turned and made to leave, but stopped at the last moment. Fíli saw her biting her lips, as if this was something that she shouldn’t say, least to a prisoner and a dwarf, but she turned anyway. And suddenly it wasn’t what she told Kíli, about starlight and walking in the forest and seeing white light, that mattered to Fíli: it was the fact that she could have just left, and she didn’t. She stayed, and kept talking to Kíli, and even told him something personal. Something that proved that she didn’t think of Kíli as just a dwarf, or even just a prisoner, anymore.

Fíli’s breath hitched.

Kíli was doing… an amazing job, he had to hand it to him. But he also looked so enraptured by the beautiful elf, that Fíli for a moment wondered if his reckless brother wasn’t playing without protecting himself.

Because that sounded exactly like something that Kíli would do, and Fíli… well. They didn’t have enough experience for Fíli to know what to do. Or even what to say.

“I saw a fire moon once” Kíli said in a whisper, barely more.

The elf turned, as if Kíli had told a dwarven maiden he had found the biggest ruby of all times.

“It rose over the path, high and huge. Red and gold it was, it filled the sky” he said.

She sat close to the cell door, and Fíli barely paid attention to what his brother was telling her. To how he was telling her they had been in Ered Luin, taken the green way south. Kíli said he wanted to show it to her.

In that moment, Fíli felt worry bloom ice cold in his chest, because he understood that Kíli was definitely falling in love for this elf.

He didn’t doubt his brother love. He never could, nor would.

But this elf… putting Kíli apart of a secret was one thing, but, love?

Fíli turned. Up above the top of the sky, the blond elf watched down, contempt clear on his face.

And Fíli understood that that expression wasn’t just because Tauriel was lowering herself to waste time with dwarves, and on such a sacred occasion to elves.

The blond elf was jealous.

‘Oh, Kíli, in whatever kind of trouble are you bringing us?’ he wondered, worried even more.

Xxxx

The elf had left. Tauriel, without even noticing that the blond one had been here, and watched her talk to Kíli.

Fíli had looked at Kíli, not bothering hiding his worry.

Kíli had frowned, asking him why he was worried.

Fíli had just shaken his head, cracked a joke. No point sharing something like that with Kíli, anyway.

They heard Bofur mutter something.

“Must be really dawn” he said, much louder, and all the dwarves of the company heard.

“We’re never going to reach the mountain, are we” said Ori, walking away from the bars and diving into Dori’s open arms.

Fíli sighed. He didn’t know how to get out of this place. He wasn’t sure Tauriel would help them, and he was sure that, even if she had, they would have never made it to Erebor on time.

“Not stuck in here, you are not!” came a voice from very close to Thorin’s cell.

The dwarves all jumped to the door of their cells.

“Bilbo!” Balin exclaimed.

“Ssht! There are guards nearby!” he hushed them, hurrying with keys to find the one that opened Thorin’s cell.

“He’s freeing uncle first” Kíli muttered to Fíli, eyes locked on the hobbit.

Fíli just beamed.

Their extraordinaire burglar rushed to open all the locks, and they walked out, as silent as they could be, each calling the others’ name.

“No, not that way. This way!” Bilbo said, walking down the stairs.

“What?” Bofur asked, confused.

Nori made a face.

Thorin followed, and so did the others, though they didn’t stop muttering all along the way.

They reached what were obviously the wine cellar of the palace, where three elves snored softly, doubled over a table, long hair spilled over their face.

“Drunken elves!” Fíli murmured to Kíli.

“Must’ve been the first time they drank” Nori snickered.

“What are we doing here!” Kíli said, anxiously looking around

“We are supposed to go up, not further down!”

“This is madness!” said Bofur, turning to glare accusingly at Bilbo.

The hobbit hushed them, insisting he knew what he was doing, and walking them further in the room. He moved behind a semi wall, and pointed to a tall pile of barrels that looked empty.

No exit around.

Fíli and Kíli shared a worried look.

“Everyone, now, into the barrels, quickly!” explained the hobbit, pointing hastily to the barrels.

Dwalin approached him in two quick steps, looking very, very mad.

“Are you mad! They’ll find us!”

“No, no, they won’t. I promise you. Please, please!” the hobbit begged, almost bowing at this point: “you must trust me!”

Dwalin gave him a doubtful glance, then turned back.

They all whispered to each other, eyeing the barrels suspiciously.

Bilbo turned and gave Thorin a desperate, helpless stare.

Thorin, looking unimpressed and still skeptical, didn’t waste a second.

“Do as he said!” he hissed.

Everyone followed the order. Thorin fixed Bilbo with a glance that said ‘I trust you, but this had better work’, then he moved to enter one barrel himself. Fíli helped Kíli into the barrel above his own, and turned to the hobbit.

As soon as everyone was inside, and only their burglar remained outside, standing right in front of them. He walked hurriedly towards a big wooden lever and started pushing.

“What do we do now?” Bofur asked.

Bilbo turned: “Hold your breath”

“Hold me breath??” Bofur echoed.

The lever snapped, and the hatch opened, the barrels sliding and rolling down.

They screamed and hit the river.

Kíli heard a door slam open and Tauriel’s voice, demanding where was the keeper of the keys. He turned to Fíli, and they snickered.

“Here!” Thorin commanded, and they all pushed themselves towards an indentation of the underground river, regrouping.

That’s when their burglar fell into the water, splashing inelegantly and re-emerging in a splutter of almost panic. He was grabbed by the neck of his coat by Nori, who held him firmly and helped him to the side of his barrel.

“Well done, Master Baggins!” Thorin complimented with a warm, admired smile.

“Now, let’s go!”

Xxxx

The dwarves half swum, half were dragged by the river’s stream down to the waterfall. They all tried not to drawn and to hold for dear life to their barrels.

Elvish horns resonated, right when they were so close to the still open gate, and they saw guards running to close it.

“No!!” Thorin screamed in frustration, when he saw the gate closing, and his barrel slammed hard into it.

The others joined all too soon, but they didn’t have the time to despair.

Another horn ripped the air, an orc horn, and black arrows started raining on the elves and aiming way too close to the barrels in the river.

“Orcs!” Dwalin shouted, slamming his elbow straight into one of them and drowning him.

“Thorin!” the hobbit screamed, and slashed the throat of an orc whose sword was reaching out for Thorin.

Ori and Dori slammed heads and pushed back into the water as many orcs as they could. Dwalin rammed his fist into the midsection of one of them, stole the axe he was swinging, and used it to slay him in two.

“How do we get out of here!” Dwalin shouted.

Thorin was stuck too close to the gate, weaponless. Fíli, close to him, was trying to defend himself, Kíli and Thorin with his bare hands.

He saw the moment Kíli hoisted himself out of his own barrel and understood what his brother was up to.

Dwalin shouted for Kíli and threw him the axe. Kíli fought off orcs and made his way to the lever, and reached out.

A black arrow struck him in his upper thigh, and he jolted and winced at the sudden pain.

He turned, face suddenly ashen pale, and had to grab the rock behind himself for support.

“Kíli!!” Fíli shouted, when he saw him.

He tried to get out of his barrel, swim is way up to him, vaguely registering Thorin’s voice that echoed his brother’s name.

An orc came to close to Kíli, but was shot from part to part by an elven arrow.

Tauriel and Legolas charged the orcs, giving Kíli the time to fling himself on the lever and push his entire weight on him.

Fíli heard him scream, saw the way every movement pained him in a way that tore his heart. He shouted Kíli’s name again and grabbed Kíli’s empty barrel. His brother let himself fall into it, the arrow breaking badly because of the fall and tearing even more at the flesh.

The gate open, the dwarves were dragged by the river, orcs raining arrows on them. The two elves followed, certainly not meaning to protect them, but the elven borders, but nonetheless shielding the dwarves from the orcs as well.

Fíli had eyes only for Kíli, who looked like he couldn’t even breath anymore.

Xxxx

When they reached the shore, Fíli swum to his brother, and helped him out the barrel. Kíli didn’t even attempt to refuse Fíli’s help when they staggered to the shore, leaning heavily on him.

He sat Kíli on a rock and looked at the wound. It was bleeding, and the tip of the arrow was still stuck deep inside. The shaft had broken, badly so, shattering into splinters of metal, probably just as poisonous as the tip itself. He couldn’t touch it with his bare hands, and he couldn’t remove it just using a ripped strip from his shirt. He needed to disinfect it.

He looked up from where he was kneeling at Kíli’s feet. He met his brother’s gaze, suffering and worried, not bothered to hide it.

This was bad, this was really bad.


	15. Laketown, in a flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli almost dies, but he's healed. Tauriel saves the day. Fíli sasses. Legolas runs. All of the above, right before the dragon comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very quick chapter, making up for previous slow action. 
> 
> Contains Fíli/Kíli + Kíli/Tauriel + Fíli/Tauriel? + Legolas who doesn't like dwarves but runs to save a man.

Kíli looked up, the bright blue sky above them, no longer able to hold Fíli’s worried stare anymore. He felt feverish, covered in sweat and chilled to the bones. He felt tired, like any movement required so much energy, too much compared to the little he had left.  
He couldn’t watch into Fíli’s blue eyes, blue as the sky above them. So indifferent to their worries and fears. So indifferent to the fact that, maybe, probably, Kíli was slowly dying.

He didn’t want to lie to himself. He knew the arrow must have been poisonous. He knew that Fíli had tried to remove as many shards as he could, but the tip was still deep in his thigh, and, now that the shaft had been broken and shattered, it was almost impossible to take it out. Unless someone dug into Kíli’s leg, which wasn’t really an alternative, with their bare, dirty hands. He would have just caught a terrible infection and died just as fast as without any attempt.

Even his own feelings were exhausting him, at the moment.

He brought his eyes back into Fíli’s. His older brother was watching him with determination and apprehension, the fear choked down somewhere Kíli was supposed not to see it. Kíli didn’t need to see it, though. He could guess it.

Fíli turned sharply to Thorin, who was barking orders around, telling them to move.

“Kíli is hurt. The wound must be bandaged, at least” he said, one hundred percent his Durin’s voice, that attracted their uncle’s attention like a thunder in the blue sky.

He turned, nodded, and told him to be fast.

Óin walked in their direction and crouched close to Fíli, at Kíli’s feet.

“Here, lad, let me see” he said in his gruff voice.

Kíli gritted his teeth together and tried not to scream at the pain that mere touches shot through his leg and body.

Xxxx

Ori was trying to pour water out of his boots, sitting close to the river. Balin and Kíli had already spotted the man and already made a move for the first things that could be thrown, Kíli almost kicking away Óin and Fíli in his haste.

The man raised his bow, arrow notched.

Kíli screamed, and he turned, arrow pointed now against them.

He didn’t really see what happened, how come one moment he was holding a stone high above his head, the following one he didn’t anymore.

That injury was really affecting his performance, he thought, wondering if he was even allowed this kind of light jokes when he had to put up with a probably lethal wound.

Xxxx

Thorin made to approach the bargeman. Balin all but glued him to the floor with one single glare, and made a move to start a conversation with the man.

It wasn’t his smoothest attempt, but, in Balin’s defense, the man was pretty smart, too.

He also decided he needed the money enough not to care about the dwarves’ relationship with the elvish king of the Mirkwood kingdom.

Fíli smirked, deciding he liked him. Then he turned, pulled Kíli’s arm around his neck and hoisted him up, helping him to the barge.

Xxxx

Glóin didn’t want to pay. Nori almost robbed him, so mad he was at the nerve of him, that he would refuse to contribute equally as the other to the cause when even Nori himself had given all he had had.

And they called him a thief.

Xxxx

Laketown was… not pretty. Dale had been much more a dignified place to live. From Thorin’s tales, Dale had been a truly magnificent place to live in, in the middle of the merchant way that tied together elves and dwarves.

Laketown was sad, cold, humid and stunk terribly of fish.

Kíli almost didn’t realize it, though. The nausea had reached the point when he could barely smell or taste anything, he would just feel sick, regardless what his nose or mouth might have had to say.

He was dying. He desperately tried to walk and stand, or at least sit upright, whenever Fíli and Thorin were around.

In Fíli’s case, that meant every time.

He hadn’t prayed in a long time, but he started.

Mahal, Mahal please, do not let me collapse to the floor before my older brother and my uncle, before we reach that forsaken mountain, he would pray.

Xxxx

Fíli pushed Kíli up. Kíli managed, by some miracle, to climb up the window and join the others in the big room that was used as an armory.

Thorin unloaded in his arms a big pile of weapons, and Kíli trembled under the weight.

Thorin’s piercing blue eyes pointed on him.

Kíli swallowed.

“Can you do this?” Thorin asked.

Kíli nodded.

He didn’t trust his mouth.

He turned. He started on the stairs. And he fell epically down all of them, the metal of the weapons clashing as loud as ever in the silent night, and he even lost consciousness for some long moments.

Xxxx

They were led in front of the palace.

Dwalin stopped the nonsense, revealing to the shouting crowd who Thorin really was.

Fíli had eyes on Kíli all the time, and Kíli started to tremble with the effort of not collapsing again.

Xxxx

“You are not coming” Thorin said.

Kíli looked up in his eyes.

Thorin’s pale blue eyes, always so kind, and also unmoving.

Panic seized him. He knew he wouldn’t survive. If he didn’t reach the mountain with the party, he would never reach it at all. He would die before the next day.

He opened his mouth, trying not to cry, and to say something that could move his uncle’s decision.

Thorin looked at him with kindness and worry, and bend forward, touching his forehead with his own.

“Rest, heal. Join us when you are well” he said.

Kíli felt tempted to admit how bad his wound was faring, but he didn’t.

He still had some pride left.

He swallowed, stood straight and retreated. He almost collapsed on the side of another boat, but managed to make it look like he was just sitting, and that the graceless movement had been only because of the heavy armor. 

Fíli appealed to Thorin.

Of course Fíli would appeal to Thorin.

“Uncle, please, don’t do this to him”

Kíli wanted to die. Maybe he could just jump in the river. With the weight of the armor, he would have certainly drowned.

“Fíli!” he tried protesting.

But in the end, not even the direct command of their king could keep Fíli on that boat.

“Fíli, don’t be a fool. You belong with the company” Thorin said.

Fíli glared at him, Durin’s stare against Durin’s stare.

“I belong with my brother” he recounted, ice and fire in the same sentence.

He moved away and reached for Kíli in a few swift steps.

And by the look on his face, Kíli knew he could stop pretending he wasn’t about to die.

He felt relieved, but also sad, and almost cried. Fíli was giving up to this, only because of him.

“Fíli…” he tried,

“Ssht” Fíli said, and started unclasping some layer of the armor with quick fingers.

Kíli didn’t protest anymore, didn’t even pretended not appreciating the weight being removed from his shoulders.

Óin joined them too. Bofur, instead, was an accident.

Kíli couldn’t believe someone could really miss the boat, but, here Bofur was, to prove him wrong.

Xxxx

They carried him back to Bard’s house. At least that is what Kíli thought. He couldn’t see anymore, and wasn’t even sure who was actually carrying him. He only knew that one was Fíli, because he had his nose stuck inside dark blond hair and Fíli nice scent was everywhere.

Xxxx

She came in like a vision.

Kíli couldn’t see almost at all, by then, only shadows.

He knew Fíli was holding his hand and caressing his forehead, but she, Kíli saw her like a beacon of light as soon as she stepped into the room.

She, and the other elf.

They destroyed the orcs.

She grabbed a flower, that someone, Bofur maybe? Was holding.

She started chanting.

Fíli’s hand gripped tighter on his own.

She looked brighter and brighter, pure light, and then he was once again able to distinguish her face, in the beacon of light where she stood.

And Fíli was always there, a warmer light, less bright, but never fading.

Xxxx

The elf panted slightly when she finished healing Kíli.

Fíli watched her enraptured, still holding Kíli’s hand and caressing hair.

She looked like she had just fought a battle and, in some ways, she really had.

For his brother.

Fíli felt his heart swell in his chest.

“Elf magic medicine, lad. To have the chance of witnessing this, oh, how lucky are we!” old Óin muttered to him.

Fíli didn’t point out that there were more than one reason he felt grateful and honored, and very, very lucky.

The blond elf, Legolas, who, as it had turned out, was also King Thranduil’s son, appeared again in the doorway. He had helped in slaying the orcs that had attacked them, and was now talking with Bard’s only son.

“He has gone to the tower, he wanted to prepare for when the dragon will arrive” the boy was saying.

Bard. The elf was asking after Bard.

“He has a black arrow that he can use to kill the dragon, does he not?” he asked.

The boy nodded, slightly intimidated by the deep stare the elf was fixing him with.

“Where is he now?” the elf asked again.

“If he doesn’t reach the tower in time, we will not stand a chance against Smaug” Tauriel said, still sounding out of breath.

Legolas looked at her with an expression that didn’t hide his unhappiness at having to wait for her here, instead of chasing off the orcs he had pursued, and to save dwarves, even worse.

Fíli suspected that, in particular, the elven prince had something against Kíli because of Tauriel.

“We need to find your father” Legolas repeated to Bain.

The young boy shook his head, now more in determination than fear, and headed out. The elf followed him. They talked, but Fíli didn’t bother to hear what they were saying. He was too busy focusing on the way Kíli was babbling about stars and Tauriel, and saying it all to herself.

He was very tempted to step in and save his brother’s dignity, but then decided that, screw that, it suited Kíli to make a bit of a fool out of himself. Suited him for being this reckless and being shot with an orc arrow, almost dying and, especially, not protecting himself and spilling his gut to what was, apparently, the love of his life.

The elf blushed, her finger grazing Kíli’s. Then she lifted her eyes and caught Fíli’s smirking ones. Her blush deepened.

“Don’t stop on my account” he whispered to her, smiling sly.

She tried to reply but decided to let go. She dropped her hand and moved away.

Legolas reappeared in the doorway, Bain behind him.

“You stay here with them. I’m going to get the archer” he told Tauriel, and disappeared.

Fíli looked at her. She looked like, had she had something to launch after him, she would have.

Xxxx

A roar came from the mountain.

Legolas hadn’t needed to hear it. He was already jumping from roof to roof, running with all his might. The malicious energy of the power of the dragon already impregnated the air, and it was growing stronger and stronger, the stench of it slowly choking him.

How did he long for the green of the forest, even if even there he could by now smell and feel the dark power growing stronger. He would have given many things to be back home, or at least, to run somewhere where a dragon was not involved.

He kicked two guards against the wall and unsheathed his sword.

Bard the bargeman, who everyone treated as king of Laketown, jumped on his feet.

“Who are you?” he demanded, as if Legolas had just breached into his home, instead of coming to free him.

“The black arrow for the dragon. You have it, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Not with me, I have hidden it” the man replied.

It looked like he was smart enough not to need asking why Legolas was bringing up the topic of the arrow, and Legolas appreciated. He had always found men particularly slow with the intaking of information.

“Can you retrieve it fast?”

“Yes”

Legolas tore open the pathetic excuse for a lock that the door of the cell had, and the man rushed out.

“Who are you?” the man asked, only then, when they were all but rushing out the window and jumping again outside.

“A bit late to ask that question, don’t you think?” he asked, smirking to him.

The man frowned, but didn’t manage to answer, nor to show off the witty response he looked like he was coming up with.

The dragon roared again, filling the night, and then, there it was, a too big dot in the sky, fast approaching, the promise of impending death and fire that was about to fall on them all.

Legolas grabbed Bard for the elbow.

“Quick! Where did you hide it!”

They ran.


	16. Run faster, aim quicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon is slain. New threat arrives. 
> 
> Legolas babysits humans. Tauriel plays with Fíli and Kíli. Sigrid and Tilda try not to be damsels in distress but end up being it anyway. Everyone loves Gandalf's staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second time I stray from Canon plot (at least the general sequence of the event). I hope it works.
> 
> Lots of shifting POV. Some sass (maybe?).

Legolas had grown up with his father’s somber, distant voice, telling him about the giant ice dragon whose claws had marred his otherwise perfect skin. He would hear those stories from servants, friends, teachers, anyone really. 

Only his father, the one who had lived them personally, would be so reticent with the details the young elf child longed for. Everyone else would add greatness and gore, but his father would tell him always so little.

Glorfindel, slayer of the Balrog, had once come and visited Mirkwood. Legolas had eaten up every story the warrior had told him, and the tall, imposing elf had indulged him greatly, a bottle of wine in one hand, the other gesticulating to render the scenes of the battles he was telling.

Legolas knew what a dragon smelled like, now, the air impossibly saturated with its dark power, the smell of fire and smoke. The one his father had fought must have smelled much different, ice instead of fire. But the stench of darkness, the creeping feeling that was threatening to choking Legolas at every breath he took, that must have been the same.

He steeled himself and run towards the tower. The man that could save them all, the son of the dragon slayer, was running by his side, his only son on his right. Bracketed by the child and Legolas, and trying to run without dropping the long, black arrow he held in his hands, Legolas imagined he didn’t exactly look imposing.

The dragon flew on the city, setting everything on fire. Legolas could barely focus on running. He tried breathing through his mouth instead of his nose, hoping he could ignore most of the scents that assaulted him, but to no avail. The creature roared and hurt his ears, and its magic singed his elvish senses, hurting him enough to wince.

He was forced to slow down considerably and then stop, struggling not to double over himself and retch in the river.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, very close to Legolas, so close that for a moment he desperately tried to focus on his smell, the sound of his soul, instead of the dragon’s presence.

“Do not hesitate now. Run to the tower. Go!” Legolas answered, pushing himself into a standing position and pointing to the tower.

They were so close now.

“But are you alright?” the man insisted, one hand firmly around the black arrow, the other gripping Legolas’ forearm.

He looked worried, and Legolas found it odd.

‘Why would a man worry about me?’ he asked himself.

He nodded, pointing again to the tower.

“Go, now!” he repeated.

The man looked hesitating at the thought of leaving him behind, Legolas realized.

He widened his eyes slightly, surprised.

“Go, I will be fine. Go” he said once again.

The man nodded, and run towards the tower with his son.

Xxxx

The dragon was immense, terrible, and obviously had a too high opinion of himself, Legolas noted, since it went on at length, with its rumbling voice, taunting the man who could kill it.

It would call the archer weak, his aim too poor to ever hit a dragon, lest of all pierce its skin with the black arrow. In his words, in those too many words, hidden under the fire, the majestic stretch of the wings, the blood-red color of its body, Legolas saw fear.

Bard the bargeman, son of the king of Dale, placed the arrow on the shoulder of his only son, who was looking back into his father’s eyes, crying, afraid, but holding himself very still, and quiet.

“Everything will be alright” Legolas heard the man say to his child.

The dragon taunted him again.

“I will eat your child and you will burn” it said.

Legolas jumped on a roof and leaned forward. The man could not see him, not with the thick smog, but he could hear him.

“Bard, shoot, now!” he cried.

The man took aim and let the arrow fly.

The dragon roared and prepared to exhale fire on them all, but the arrow stroke it right through its heart. The fire that was creeping up its massive form retreated, and the dragon fell to the ground, then crumbled on the buildings it had perched itself upon, only a moment prior. It tumbled and fell into the deep water of the lake, and disappeared.

The tower the man and his son were still on started collapsing.

Legolas shot out, grabbed the child and placed him on his shoulder, and let himself fall into a neatly crouch on the ground, holding the man close to his other side.

He put them down and they started running again, away from the crumbling, burning buildings.

Xxxx

Fíli was rowing fast and steady, the daughters of the bargeman sitting in front of him. The elder had wrapped the younger in a tight embrace, and the latter was hiding her face in her sister’s shoulder.

Behind him, Kíli sat with a knee bent and his bow ready, Tauriel in the same identical position at the other end of the boat. Óin and Bofur had their swords ready.

“Thank Mahal the orcs have retreated” Bofur said, looking around at the destruction.

“May he be looking upon the company, too” Óin muttered, looking up at the sky.

Then they saw the dragon fall, and the giant wave that its body falling created. Fíli expertly rode it and led them back to a safe point on the lake.

“We need to go to the shore, Fee!” Kíli said from behind him.

“I know, but there’s too much fire between us and it now” he pointed out, rowing in that direction anyway.

“There, you can pass through there” the elf pointed at a narrow passage between two burning carcasses of what had probably been buildings before.

Fíli nodded and rowed.

“Where is papa?” the younger girl asked, emerging from under her sister’s embrace: “And Bain?”

“I don’t know, Tilda, but I’m sure they are alright. Dad is a smart man” the older replied.

“Legolas is with them. I am sure they are alright, child” Tauriel added.

Fíli and Kíli shared a glance.

She caught it, and looked and them pointedly, as if daring them to challenge what she had just said. They shook their heads in a way that explained that it wasn’t her prince’s abilities they were doubting.

They didn’t think someone could slay a dragon and survive, but they couldn’t exactly say that in front of the man’s children.

The eyes of the elder, though, caught on their exchange. She looked seventeen, and she was probably old enough to catch on the meaning of those silent glances. She didn’t say anything, but her lips tightened, and she hugged her sister closer to her chest.

“Do not worry” Tauriel repeated, from after her.

The girl nodded, without turning in the direction of the elf, and pressed her forehead to her sister’s hair.

Tauriel stood, eyes up to the sky.

She was looking and listening carefully at something.

Kíli stirred behind Fíli, but he didn’t ask. Fíli silently observed the way she was almost probing at the dark sky, illuminated by the lights of the fire burning.

“Something is coming” she said, all of a sudden. She lowered her head and looked at Fíli with a tight expression, in control, but aware of danger. She looked every inch the captain she was, Fíli thought, and they were in danger.

“Row faster, we need to get to the shore” she said.

“What’s coming, what did you hear?” Kíli asked.

The girls were silent.

“Something is coming, I am not certain what. Fíli, please, faster” she repeated, more a plea than an order now.

They were already very close to the shore, and Fíli put extra effort in every push and pull on the rows to bring them there, faster.

They touched the land and jumped off the boat, quickly running out of the water.

They moved to regroup together, avoiding the people who were running towards the shore or the water. Fear had taken too many, who had flung themselves in the lake and drowned to escape the fire, or desperately trying to put off the fire that had caught on them.

Fíli grabbed Kíli by his hand and hoarded the two girls in front of him, pushing them towards Tauriel.

He was about to speak, when a shriek pierced the air, so high it hurt their ears.

Tauriel winced and had to cover her ears, more sensitive than any other’s.

The shriek came again, stronger and closer, and nothing like Fíli could remember.

“What is this! Why does it sound like a bat?” Kíli asked, shouting to be heard above the shrieking that wasn’t stopping.

Tauriel winced and closed her eyes, folding herself in two, the noise hurting her incredibly even to stand straight. The girls had pushed their shawls to their ears, and the older was wrapping her scarf around her head.

“Here!”

She reached for the elf and started wrapping her shawls around Tauriel’s ears, folding it to muffle the sound.

“You’ll still hear it, but I hope it’s more bearable” she said.

Tauriel winced but managed to stand.

“It is, thanks”

Her words were covered by a cloud that flew closer and closer to the shore. Even in the dark sky, it could be seen easily, made of hundreds of black dots that emitted that terrible shrikes. The creatures pointed at the people, gathered close to the river, and lunged downwards.

Tauriel raised her bow and shot an arrow.

A shriek slightly higher than the others was heard, and a huge bat fell on the shore, half sinking in the wet sand.

“It’s a bat!” the older girl shouted.

“Bats!” someone started shouting, around them.

The bats dived for the people and attacked them.

“No, it’s not just bats” Fíli said.

Kíli and Tauriel were letting loose arrow after arrow, but the bats were too many. They pushed people to the ground by landing on top of them, and the weight that came with their considerable dimensions threw their victims down, stumbling under it. Then they would shriek again and bite, with fangs that shone at the lights on the torches.

“They’re vampire bats!” Tauriel shouted, and struck one arrow in the throat of one that was too close to a small boy.

Fíli unsheathed his swords and started beheading every creature that reached for them.

“Tilde!” the older girl shouted, and hugged her closer.

“Behind me!” Fíli shouted to her, and she hurried after his back.

Fíli danced with his twin swords, managing to keep them safe, but around them people were dying, the creatures draining all their blood.

“Help us! Someone help us!” a woman shouted.

Kíli pointed an arrow, but the bat that he stroke down was replaced by other two, and before he could aim again they had already torn her head from her shoulders, so hard they had pulled at her neck.

Tilde let out a horrified cry.

“Here! Fíli! Let me and Tauriel protect them! Girls, come here!” Kíli called them.

The girls run between him and Tauriel, the archers turned the other direction, so that they could fire arrows and keep the girls safe behind their backs.

Free now to spin as much as he wanted, Fíli managed to kill more bats, but it was still an impressive feat. They were strong, as big as an orc, and they could fly. Their wings were also clawed, and that cursed shriek they let out would stun their victim and slow their defense.

Close to them, a group of children was crying around dead bodies of the adults that couldn’t protect them anymore. Some bats pointed at them. Fíli charged them away: one clawed at him arm, and almost tore through the thick leather he wore. He got a few scratches on his hands and faces, mostly by the claws on the wings of the bats whose head he would cut off.

Tauriel and Kíli run out of arrows, and unsheathed their swords.

Xxxx

Fíli was a beast in the field. He slayed and slayed dozens of bats. Kíli shot down as many as he could, but he was sure his older brother was reaping a richer harvest, with those double swords of his.

Then his quiver ran out of arrows, and so did Tauriel’s. He exchanged a quick glance with the elf, and took out his sword.

Xxxx

Tauriel moved away from them. She shouted to Kíli to cover the girls and went to where the bats were slaughtering a group of people.

Kíli shouted for her but let her go, the girls trying to stay as close to him as they could, without blocking his movements.

“Here, use this!”

Fíli reappeared close to them, stuck one of his swords in the body of a fat bat, and with the free hand reached under his coat. He took out two daggers and gave them to the older girl, pulling his sword back out of the bat.

Her eyes widened and she looked at him with fear, but she swallowed and gave one to her sister. The knives were long enough they could defend themselves if they were attacked, but not enough to charge into attack.

The older girl was pushed to the ground by a bat that flew past, with Kíli busy fighting off others, and she pushed the blade into one of its eyes. The creature died, and she hurried out from under its body, her sister running to help her.

“The sun, we need the sun!” Tauriel shouted from not too far from them.

“Why the sun!” Kíli shouted back.

“It will chase them back!” she cried, beheading a bat that was coming to close to an old man.

“How am I supposed to give you the sun!” Kíli screamed, slashing two bats to the ground with his sword: “do you realize I am a bit busy at the moment!”

Fíli laughed despite the moment.

“I heard females usually ask for the moon!” he exclaimed, loud enough so they could hear.

“Why would I want the moon! We need sunlight to chase them away!” Tauriel screamed again, looking somewhat frustrated that the brothers weren’t taking this seriously.

Xxxx

“Bain!”

Bard pushed his son to the ground and covered him with his body.

A shriek tore through the air and a bat fell too close to them. He turned and saw the shaft of an arrow coming out from its dead body.

Legolas was firing arrows after arrows at every bat that was flying in their direction.

“Get up! We need to move from here!” he shouted, when he met Bard’s eyes.

They did.

And in that moment Legolas ran out of arrows, and put hand to his sword, but the bat was flying and – Bard didn’t even think, just grabbed a pole and impaled the creature still in flight.

Legolas gaped for a second, looking at the bat on the pole, and Bard still holding it.

The man looked at the elf, scared, tired, and a bit in awe at what he had just done.

Legolas was sure he had the same, identical expression.

“Thanks” he said, and used his sword to behead two bats headed their way.

Xxxx

Gandalf arrived in a beacon of pure white, daylight, and chased the bats away.

The people of Laketown divided in groups and set to put together makeshift refuges, to sleep away the few hours that remained till dawn.

Two dwarven princes, a prince elf, an elvish captain of the guard and a wizard stood to watch over them.

Xxxx

When the sun arrived, the inhabitants of Laketown, crying, hurting and bleeding, started venturing around, to see what they could save of their home, destroyed by the fire of the dragon, and to find their families, torn apart by the bats.

The dwarves, the elves and the wizard gathered in circle, the dragon slayer with them.

“What were these things?” Bard asked.

He looked tired, and he hadn’t slept not even for a minute, watching over his children. He was covered in soot, dust and blood.

Legolas hoped it wasn’t his own.

“Vampiric bats” Gandalf answered, leaning on his staff: “they are the descendants of a great evil. Thuringwethil, she called herself. She died long ago, and served none other than whom we now call the necromancer”

“The woman of the secret shadow?” Legolas asked, incredulous: “but she was slain. She died, for sure”

“She has, but her breed didn’t die with her. Unfortunately so” Gandalf replied.

“Vampire bats?” Kíli asked, looking around.

“Aye, that is what they were. They can be killed, you have seen, and they can only venture outside with the darkness of the night. We do not need to worry about them coming back before sunset” Gandalf said.

“But they will come again, with the falling of the night, will they not?” Bard asked, obviously worried: “We should find shelter. We must find somewhere to hide”

“There is no such a place in here. You need to barricade yourself inside a fortress, or stone building” Legolas explained.

Fíli and Kíli shared a glance.

“No, Fíli, Kíli, he does not mean Erebor” Gandalf corrected them, preventing whatever they might say. Then he looked up at Legolas, and made a very tiny smile: “what are you thinking?”

“Dale” Legolas said, bluntly so, without flourish: “Dale must be reconstructed. There is nothing here for this people. You may as well rebuild the city of Dale, instead of this pathetic excuse for a place”

“Hey” Bard said.

“Sorry” Legolas replied automatically, and absolutely not sorry in the least.

Bard snorted, but nodded.

“We have no means to do so, though. We need money, tools, food. And we need to find shelter, very, very fast”

He sighed, and looked to Fíli and Kíli.

“I am afraid we will have to go and beg your uncle for help” he said.

“Then do it. He will give it to you” Kíli answered.

Fíli put a hand on his arm, silently telling him to calm down.

Kíli held his gaze, but then nodded.

Fíli watched up, and looked very seriously at the man.

“You represent the people of Laketown. You might not see it, but you do. If you ask Thorin for help, he might not want to give it to you. I don’t know what is inside that mountain. We cannot promise what we still don’t know whether it can be given”

Fíli paused.

It pained him greatly to say this all aloud. To even think it. And to say it so close to elves, but it was the truth, and they didn’t have time for lies.

“We will sett off to Erebor, right now. We will speak to Thorin, and ask him to help you. Follow us, follow us with your people. You will walk slower, and reach the mountain much after us. It will give us time to talk with our uncle”

“If he’s already fallen under gold sickness, no amount of time will ever be enough” Legolas pointed out, in a dry voice but that lacked contempt.

Fíli was surprised, he admitted. Even Tauriel looked so.

“That is our problem. Let us think about that” he replied, because, really, what else could he say?

“The bats flew here from Dol Guldur, where the orcs were also coming from” Tauriel said: “someone should see if there are more, up there”

“I am sure there are” said Gandalf, nodding with a thoughtful stare.

“Well, don’t be so positive” Kíli muttered.

Fíli snorted and flashed a grin at him.

“We will go” Legolas said.

Kíli’s face flashed to stormy.

“What?!”

“You and what army?” Bard added, sounding very sarcastic.

The elf ignored both, turned to Tauriel to exchange something brief in elvish, and then back to Gandalf: “We set off now. Help them with the dwarves, will you?”

And with that, he was off, Tauriel running after him and casting backwards a worried glance to Kíli and Fíli.

“Be safe!” she mouthed.

Kíli beamed at her, Fíli waved.


	17. Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princes enter Erebor, with the remaining two dwarves. What they find inside is less pleasant than they thought. The hobbit says something that makes them doubt. But all this gold... And really, blond is the new gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fíli + Kíli. Very slight mention of Thorin x Fíli or Thorin x Kíli. No real thing though.

Fíli and Kíli packed some of their things, and left most of the others. They were definitely bringing their weapons, bedrolls, water supplies, some food. They were not bringing along, for the miles they would have to walk once on the other side of the lake, whatever trinkets the people of Laketown insisted to give to them.

It started as a couple of presents, small things really, given to them by two boys. The boys had seen the dwarves walk away from where they had held council, with Gandalf, Bard and the two elves. One of them grabbed Kíli by the end of his sleeve and pulled lightly, to attract his attention.

Kíli stopped in his track and turned, looking somewhat baffled the young child. Fíli, on his brother’s left side and just a step forward, stopped as well, and turned, seeing a the second child, hiding behind the first one, taller and bigger. Or, better, taller and less scrawny than the second.

“Here, sir, please” said the first, bigger or less scrawny boy, holding a small something in his fist and dropping it into Kíli’s curious open palm.

They fled right after, Kíli and Fíli starting down into Kíli’s hand for a few seconds, before they realized what had just happened.

“Oh” Kíli said, taking in the start-shaped glass that the boy had given to him.

“It’s pretty” Kíli smiled and raised his head to look into his brother’s eyes.

Fíli nodded, an amused smile on his lips.

“Who knows why they would be thanking us”

“Did we save them without realizing? Maybe they were in the group of kids the bats were targeting, at some point” Kíli mused.

“Whatever we have done, you should keep it” Fíli suggested.

Kíli placed it safely into his pocket and they resumed their walking.

They hadn’t been able to make it so far as to the next couple of meters away, before a girl approached Fíli with a single, light blue flower in her hand. She boldly grabbed Fíli’s hand, slipping her tiny, cool hand into his, and smiled at him, giving him the flower with the brightest smile Fíli had ever seen. Or possibly, only on Kíli, when he was about her age.

“For saving my mom, young sirs” she said.

Fíli took the flower and she run away, to where a bruised and battered woman was waiting, a bit far from them, sitting on a rock. She was tending to two other kids already, and hugged her running daughter, smiling to the dwarven princes above her shoulder.

Fíli smiled back, stuck the flower in a buttonhole of his coat, and off they went again.

“How come you always get the pretty ones!” Kíli taunted him, feigning envy.

“Kíli, that was a child” Fíli deadpanned, making Kíli blush for his own joke.

They were stopped by children of varying age and been given more flowers, token, even a coin that a young teenage boy claimed to be his lucky one.

“Shouldn’t you keep this, then?” Kíli replied to him, smiling sly.

The boy blushed and stammered that he hadn’t been saved by a coin, but by a dwarven prince.

“Look at you, what have you done to the poor boy! He was blushing like mad!” Fíli grinned at Kíli, when the teenage boy had vanished.

Kíli rolled his eyes and blushed slightly: “Don’t be jealous when I get fans as well”

Before they reached the place where Bard’s children were waiting for them, they had been given so many things, their pockets were way too full. Bain offered to store some of the tokens, and he and Tilda put together in rapid, expert moves a small bag, just by knotting together Sigrid’s tattered scarf.

“Well, the elf captain has really had little care for your scarf, hasn’t she!” Kíli joked.

The poor scarf had been torn in so many points it was now useless as a scarf, for it could offer por shield against the cold air. However, Sigrid only laughed, a good, pleasant sound after all the mayhem they had seen.

“I like to think she had put it to good use” she said, not bothered at all to see the state her scarf was reduced to, nor by the fact her scarf had now been turned into a bag.

The princes left, not after being half smothered by Bard’s children into hugs stronger than they were expecting kids of that age and size to be able to give, packing up what was sensible that they would take.

Erebor might have been a majestic kingdom once, but they knew it must have been cold, fiercely so, with no supply available, and possibly no access to water. It was very, very unlikely that Smaug the dragon had kept in good working conditions the water pumps all these years…

They set off. Shortly after they had marched in direction of one of the few remaining boats, they found Bofur and Óin, whom they had lost during the bats attack. Bofur looked pale, but it was possible that it was just an impression due to the way he was covered in ashes and soot. There were smudges on his entire face, but Óin insisted that he had checked him.

“He’s not hurt or sick. Just dirty” he said.

The princes had laughed, with Bofur not even trying to protest at that.

They also noticed he had packed an incredible amount of food, the quantity that they would have expected only his cousin Bombur to pack.

“It’s a long way to the mountain, and I’m sure Bombur has run out of the supplies they had been given when they left off” he said, in lieu of justification.

“Maybe, but you will never manage to reach the mountain at all, under all that weight” Kíli replied, with an amused expression and a sly smile.

“Young prince! Yer should know that I used to carry lots of coal and gold on me shoulder! I’ll show yer, how I manage”

Kíli only snorted to that, and let the other two laugh.

They reached the mountain. Bofur managed even despite all that food packed on his shoulders: he had started puffing and panting pretty quickly after dismounting the barge, without voicing a single complaint. The others had liked too much the perspective of eating that food, and only because of that had decided not to make fun of the poor miner.

Xxxx

Erebor looked impressive.

Fíli and Kíli stood in front of the shattered entrance gate and could only gape.

“Wow” Kíli said, after a while.

Bofur put his backpack down with more force than necessary, letting it fall.

“Indeed, me prince”

“If you don’t stop with the ‘prince’ thing right now, I’m about to make sure you won’t ever know what’s on the inside of that door” Kíli said, slowly dragging his eyes away from the majestic gate and onto Bofur.

The miner pursed his lips and nodded.

“Sorry. Just thought the place required some… formality” he shrugged.

“Bofur! Kíli, Fíli! And Óin!” came a shout.

They all looked up.

Impossibly up, higher than they could watch without bending their necks, Ori was waving down at them.

“You’re here!” he cheered.

They waved back.

“Come inside! Bilbo is coming your way” he said, then disappeared.

They stayed watching with their noses in the air for a moment, then looked each other and nodded.

“Well, lads, this is it” Óin said: “Let’s go”

“It feels like this should be more…” started Fíli, waving his open hand in the air and looking for words that were not coming to him.

“…Majestic? Formal? Like, the moment we’ve waited for half our lives, and now it’s here?” Kíli supplied, somewhat between sarcasm and thoughtful consideration.

“Eh, something like that” Fíli said.

Bofur nodded.

“Hey, I’ve tried with formality. Yer didn’t want it. So screw you, I’m going inside. Yer can come when you’ve found what yer looking for” he deadpanned.

Óin laughed.

They moved to the entrance and walked in. They lingered close to the destroyed entrance gate, wondering what the hell had the others done, to break the gate in that way.

“Do you think it was the worm?” Bofur asked.

“Must have been” Óin said, nodding.

They walked in and entered the first long, narrow hall of Erebor. Some flags still hung on their poles, tattered and torn, partly burnt. They were fluttering lightly, at the wind that streamed through the shattered entrance.

Fíli stopped and looked, taking in both the destruction that Smaug had produced and the greatness that the kingdom must once have had. He felt once again a small dwarfling, to whom stories of the great realm under the mountain were told, and he wondered how this place had looked, before a firedragon came in and ruined it.

Beside him, Kíli bumped his shoulder into Fíli’s, nose up in the air, equally as awed as Fíli felt.

“This look… more than I was imagining” he whispered.

“Yes” said Bofur, sighing in discomfort at the staircase that rose a few steps from where they stood: “and those look like a lot of stairs”

“We don’t need to take those” Óin said: “They must lead to the upper part. The others must be all down” he went on.

“Part of the old city was upstairs” Bofur said, with a frown.

“Aye, but most of it was military facilities. People lived downstairs. And most of all, the royal palace developed downwards” the old doctor added, looking at Bofur with a pointed stare: “so, if I was a certain king who wants to find a certain Arkenstone, I wouldn’t go look for it upstairs, where I will only find burnt bones…”

“But downstairs, in the treasury” Kíli finished, breathing out the last word as if it was an ominous one.

Fíli looked at his brother, and his brother looked back at him.

“Now you two don’t start with that looks. There is no way to know in advance what has happened to your uncle” Óin went on, bluntly voicing their fears.

Kíli blushed slightly.

Fíli shook his head: “That won’t stop me from worrying” he muttered.

They found the stairs that took to the halls further down, and undertook the long walk down.

“How further down does this place go?” Bofur asked at some point.

Fíli scoffed.

“Bofur, even the cities in Ered Luin or the Iron Hills are further down than what we’ve walked so far” he said.

“Aye, but there I didn’t have to smell dragon’s stink” he replied.

Kíli snorted, making a face,

“Yes, it’s really disgusting, isn’t it? Really ruins the effect of coming back home”

Fíli chuckled but agreed.

Right then, they heard hurried steps, and stopped, looking at each other. They were now very close to the main hall of the city, where the first chambers of the palace were. This could have been anyone of their own, running up to greet them. But then, why would anyone run?

Unless something had happened, they thought all simultaneously, and shared a look.

The princes put their hands on the hilts of their swords, but it wasn’t a goblin or an orc, running up the stairs, and not even one of the company, bleeding and asking for help.

It was just their hobbit, Master Bilbo Baggins, the burglar that must have sneaked them successfully in, since the dragon was dead, and the dwarves inside their ancient home.

“Bilbo!” they greeted him with happy smiles.

“Nice to see you survived!” Bofur laughed, making a move to hug him.

Master Baggins didn’t exactly run away from him, but he winced slightly when he was pulled close to the dwarf.

That is when Fíli noticed the worried look of the hobbit, and the way he would cast hurried glances towards the corner of the stairs.

“Bilbo, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Bofur instantly let go of the hobbit, and seized by his shoulders, keeping him at arm distance and inspecting him close.

“You don’t look hurt” he said, then he shoved him slightly closer to Óin: “does he look hurt?”

“Why are you so worried, lad?” the doctor asked.

“Is everything okay down there?” Kíli asked, a carefully neutral look on his face.

“No, unfortunately no. Oh, Fíli, and Kíli, it’s so good to see you back. No, it’s not okay. It’s your uncle. He is, he is…”

“What? What is wrong with uncle?” Kíli pressed.

He made to walk around him and take the final round of stairs.

“No!” the hobbit whisper-shouted, grabbing him by his wrist: “do not go. Do not go! Just, get out of here. This place is cursed. Get out! Fíli, Fíli please, get out”

“Get out? We’ve just arrived. What’s wrong with uncle Thorin?” Fíli insisted, frowning and mirroring Kíli’s move on the hobbit’s other side.

“No! no, don’t go, Fíli!”

But Fíli had managed to slip away and take the final bend of the stairs, and was now looking thunder struck at the incredibly immense amount of gold that laid in the main hall.

It felt even too much to look. He was aware that Kíli had joined him and was now standing as awestruck as he felt at his side, looking with incredulous stares at the sea of shimmering gold that twinkled at the bottom of the stairs. It leaked out from the openings that led to many secondary aisles, and was piled up in careless heaps that here and there almost reached the ceiling.

At it was a very, very, very high ceiling.

“Oh, Mahal…” Kíli whispered.

“Oh, Mahal strike me now!” Bofur said, louder than the prince, appearing at their side.

“Welcome, my sister-sons” echoed the rumbling voice of Thorin, king under the mountain.

They turned to the stone-carved balcony where their uncle stood, barely above some of the piles of gold. He was wearing a rich, deeply embroidered coat, and, more than that, he was wearing the crown of the king under the mountain.

But, most of all, even with that distance that separated him from them, they saw a sinister light twinkling in his eyes, and they immediately knew what the hobbit had been trying to tell them.

“Welcome to the kingdom of Erebor”

Xxxx

Thorin made all the members of the company work, most of them to search the Arkenstone. He was king, he was crowned, he had every right to command and rule, but he was nothing without the sacred stone.

“You can’t say he’s gone mad just because he says that. He has always said that, even before” Kíli said, replying to the hobbit’s hurried pleas that they all leave.

“But something is wrong, in here” Bofur nodded: “oh, but all this gold, look at all this gold… How could we leave it here? Poor baby must feel alone if we leave!” he added, looking at the stacks of shimmering metal and jewels with longing.

Óin grunted: “We made sacrifices just to come here. We will not leave now, just because Thorin might have come down with gold sickness” he said, firm in his conviction: “at least I will not”

Fíli and Kíli shrugged: “Sorry, Bilbo, nor do we. But we will keep our eyes open, check how uncle behaves. Just let us see” they said.

The hobbit just shook his head, forlornly and resigned.

“You will not see. You have the same light, twinkling in your eyes” he whispered, and walked away.

Xxxx

Thorin hugged them, the way he normally would. Fíli and Kíli returned his fierce hug, even rested their foreheads on his shoulders, just like when they had been dwarflings. 

Fíli's eyes closed, and he breathed in Thorin's familiar scent. Ruined by the musty smell of the coat, and the dust that forever hung to it. He opened his eyes, meeting Kíli's. His brother looked exactly as Fíli felt: torn between worry and longing. Absolutely at a loss when it came to how he was supposed to behave, what to do next.

"My sister's sons" Thorin murmured again, his hands protectively placed on their heads. 

"I have made you face many dangers, but here you are, with me, in our reclaimed home. Our ancestors are looking at us with pride" he said.

He leaned in to place a kiss on Kíli's hair and play with Fíli's hair.

Fíli closed his eyes again, tempted to give in to the pleasant feeling and ignore the distant awareness that his uncle was looking at his hair and thinking of gold. Tempted to ignore that the warmth in his voice wasn't just the warm affection he had always had for him.

Gold sickness meant insanity, and this could take many forms. 

Thorin leaned in to kiss his hair too, this time switching and playing with Kíli's. Fíli felt slightly better, and hoped he was worrying for nothing. He met Kíli's eyes again: the expression on his brother's face led him back to doubt.

That nagging feeling would not leave neither of them, it appeared. 

Thorin took a step back and looked both of them in the eyes. 

"Come. Come with me! I will show you your rooms. Erebor has a real palace, much better than what you have seen in Ered Luin. A poor example, that was, compared to the greatness of your new home!"

He led them through a corridor, then stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at Kíli in awe.

"But, Kíli! You have healed completely!"

Kíli couldn't help the small smile that crept up his face. The brothers shared a flashed stare and smiled fondly to their uncle and king. There could have been many reasons why it had taken so long for Thorin to realize that Kíli was now well. Surely the surprise and joy of reclaiming Erebor justified a little delay, a slip of memory.

Even if it had been about the health of one of his precious nephews, who had been on his deathbed. Which he also hadn't even noticed.

'Was he already affected, then, already back in Laketown?' Fíli thought.

He smothered the doubt under his guilt.

Thorin engulfed Kíli in one of his famous bear hug kissing his hair and petting it backwards, away from his nephew's face. 

"You look fully restored" Thorin said, checking his youngest nephew's face with careful attention.

Kíli blushed slightly and smiled, covering Thorin's hand with his.

"I am fine, uncle. I'm well now"

Thorin smiled at him, and hugged him close once again. He kissed again Kíli's forehead, like bestowing a blessing, and let him go.

"Come" he said, and beckoned to Fíli, too: "come with me"

He led them through the halls of the palace, dark and dusty.

Everything was covered in mold, and it reeked of sulfur and rotten and burnt. The metallic tang that permeated the air was only one of the things the dragon had left in Erebor, the air reeking of its smell. A sinister, vicious presence radiated from any shadow.

Fíli and Kíli followed Thorin, sharing silent, dubious looks. How could Thorin walk with such a sure, steady step? How could this place hold the promise of a home, to him? For them, it grew more and more like a place they would flee from.

Yet Thorin seemed completely immune and unaffected, as if he only saw the greatness that had once been in Erebor's every corner. 

Or maybe he was affected, and the gold sickness had made him unable to notice this negative energy that seemed embedded in the palace, in the city, in the entire kingdom.

He would walk and tell them stories of the place, every room he would point to and have something to say. It calmed the brothers: he sounded much more like the Thorin they had always known, the one who would tell them stories upon stories before going to bed, or in winter time, in long afternoons and evenings in front of a lit fireplace.

This had been where Thorin had been born, Fíli realized, almost starting. He had been born and grown up here, him, their mother, their uncle Frerin. They had all lived here. Their mother Dís, Thorin's and Frerin's sister, had even married here. Truly this place must have been different, he thought, when it had been a home, a place full of joy, life, faith in the future.

He didn't utter a word on this, just nodded along their uncle's tales. He risked a look past him to Kíli, but didn't manage to understand whether his brother had reached his same conclusion.

Thorin led them in front of a closed door. He didn't bother opening it, just stopped close and turned towards his nephews. 

The door looked finely engraved, even under all the dust and soot, and obviously was part of the royal chambers.

"This are the princes' halls" he announced: "you will recognize which belonged to whom, I'm sure" he added with a smile.

"You can chose whichever you like best. You can even decide to reside in just one, for the time being. It might help against the cold of the night"

"Have nights always been cold, even when you were younger?" Kíli asked.

Fíli wondered if he really was curious, or if he was just looking for any excuses to keep him there, talking about his past instead of going back to the treasury and the gold. 

It was definitely better to hear whatever anecdote Thorin might have, than let him go back to the gold and feed their worst worries.

"No, it wasn't. And it will no longer be, once we restore this place to its glory" Thorin answered.

He kissed them again, letter Fíli's hair twice, and left.

They shared a tense expression, but didn't utter a word. They didn't trust their uncle to be far enough, and they didn't want to voice their doubts. 

Fíli pushed the door open, but the inside was too dark, even with their enhanced eyesight, and the faint dark of the main hall didn't reach. Kíli found and lit a torch, taking it with them. 

They saw a long corridor, and three doors, facing each other. One was closed, two were open. The closed one was the most decorated one, with a high tree engraved in silver and a pattern of rubies mounted in its panels. 

"That must have been uncle Thorin's" Kíli said.

Fíli nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to open it. The room of the heir to the kingdom, which had been Thorin's one. He guessed it was now going to be his. In a place like this, a place that should have felt like home but didn't really, he wondered how he could now live.

"Let's start with mother's" he suggested.

Kíli held his gaze for a second, guessed his feeling, probably shared it even, and moved the torch to one of the two open doors. One of the two was actually missing, the hinges in darkened silver and stumps of rotten wood on it.

They headed for that one.

Dust covered everything, but by then they had breathed so much of it, that they would barely distinguish it anymore. This room had been reached by the fire, and the flames had eaten half of it. Everything looked either molded and rotten, or charred. Something must have stopped it from burning entirely, though, or it would have otherwise been impossible to explain why only half the bed was burnt, the rest rotten. The room itself mirrored the state of that bed. 

"Not exactly what I would call homey" Kíli muttered, casting a glance around.

He moved to the walls. A couple of paintings had survived, although one had been eaten by mold and they couldn't discern anything in it. The second one, though, was a portrait of a young female dwarf, wearing very elegant clothes and who stared back at them with fierce determination.

"So, this was mother's room" Kíli deduced.

Fíli looked again to the room. Close to the door there was a chest still open, with dolls placed inside and over it. Their bodies were half rotten and covered in ash.

"This is creepy" Kíli whispered.

"Must have been mother's room before she got married" Fíli said: "come on. Everything is either burnt or rotten. Let's see if the other rooms are better"

They walked quickly to the second room, trying to ignore the feeling of running away from something deeply unpleasant. 

The second room still had a proper working door, although it was currently open and the hinges looked too old to work properly. The panels had once been wooden and now were charred by the fire, but everything else in the room had been left untouched by the flame. Sapphires had been mounted in the wood, to decorate a silver tree, but now they were scarred by ash and fire.

They walked through the doorstep and the hinges creaked sinisterly. 

Kíli stopped and turned to glare to them.

"Still creepy" he told Fíli.

Fíli snorted.

"And everything else isn't?"

Kíli made a face and didn't reply. He walked further in the room, the torch illuminating furniture and walls covered in the signs of decay, cobwebs, mold and dirt. The bed wasn't ever going to be usable, for the state it was in.

They turned and made for leaving, when they found a portrait. They had never seen their uncle, not even in paintings, before, and they were curious to see how he had looked like. At the same time there was something deeply disturbing in being stared at by motionless, dead static eyes.

They left the room with the same feeling of being running away.

They halted right outside the closed door, the one that gave to the room of the prince heir to the throne of Erebor. The silver tree here was slightly richer, and the stones were rubies, sapphires and diamonds. 

Kíli smiled. The fire of the torch turned it into a twisted grin, and it darkened Fíli's glare into a somewhat ferocious expression.

"Let's hope at least Thorin's old quarters are habitable, or we'll have to camp here in the corridor" he joked.

Fíli snorted.

"Better that than those ghosts den" he replied, forcing a dry smile.

Kíli pushed the door open.

Uncle Thorin's room was dusty and mouldy, but less than uncle Frerin's one. For some reason, they found his portrait less intimidating and the room less sinister. They checked some of the books, recognizing some titles, and smiled at some of the trinkets that laid around. 

The mattress and curtains of the four-poster bed were rotten and moldy, so they tore them and threw them on the floor. The bed looked still solid enough for the two of them to try and sleep on it, so they unrolled their bedrolls on it.

"Good thing we have this" Kíli said.

"Indeed" Fíli agreed: " the floor would definitely be too cold. And we should try and heat up the room somehow. The fireplace looks still decent" he said, and went to check it.

"We can burn some of the furniture, perhaps from the other room"Kíli suggested.

Fíli nodded.

"The fireplace should work. Maybe it's better if we take wood from mother's room. Do you think uncle will throw a fit if we burn something from there before asking?"

Kíli sighed, turning slowly to look at Fíli.

"You mean, and act more crazy than we have already seen? Fee, we need to talk about it"

Fíli sighed. He grabbed a chair that looked still sturdy enough not to crash under his weight, and sat.

"Do you think Master Baggins was right?" he asked, neutrally.

"No. But he's the most objective of us all. The fact that we don't recognize it might be a double bad news, too" Kíli answered, much too quick for having just thought it. He had been mulling that over for some time, Fíli realized.

He nodded and looked at the floor.

That was bad. Especially if they might be already affected, too.

"And I didn't like the way he was looking at you, either" Kíli added.

Fíli raised his head and met his brother's eyes. He felt surprised that Kíli had had the gut to address the topic so directly, but also that he might feel... Well. Jealous. Was Kíli jealous? He sounded jealous.

He sighed, stood and took a few steps around the room. He put his hands through his hair, caressing the strands, and laced his fingers behind his head.then he turned and looked at Kíli.

He was looking at him like at Beorn's, when he had all but jumped him. Fíli wondered if Kíli was affected, just like Thorin, and was acting the same way, without realizing.

But Kíli had wanted him even before setting foot in Erebor.

"Do you think it's because of the color?" he asked.

"Brother, it's definitely because of the color of your hair" Kíli replied, not missing a beat and crossing his arms on his chest.

He might as well have pouted.

Thorin thought of gold whenever he would see Fíli's golden hair. Thorin coveted gold. Therefore...

"Fuck" Fíli murmured, closing his eyes.

"Hey, don't panic" Kíli said, standing up. 

He walked closer to him and put one hand on his shoulder, reassuring, and the other on his chest, the way he had started only recently.

"Let's wait and see how he behaves. If he tries to divide us, get you alone, or even if he doesn't let you leave from here... Then we will know for sure" he suggested.

'It will be too late' was Fíli's obvious reply, and Kíli could easily read it in his eyes.

He sighed.

"We'll think about it when we see it" he said again.

Fíli snorted.

"Fucking hair. Why couldn't I be a brunet?" 

"You would have been too dashing hot" Kíli replied, not entirely joking.

His hands moved up to Fíli's shoulders and he aligned himself to his older brother.

"Oh, really?" Fíli asked, smirking and grabbing hold of Kíli's hips: "why, what am I now?"

Kíli kissed him, deep and rushed. He withdrew only barely, and answered against his lips.

"Too dashing sexy"

Fíli smirked and kissed him back.


	18. Hours of shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erebor isn't what it looks like in Thorin's drugged dreams, and Fíli and Kíli fail to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fíli/Kíli plus Thorin mad, slight hints of Thorin x Fíli.

For all they had said, Erebor remained a cold, dark place, the shell of the lovely home it had once been and it was supposed to become once again. It felt like a nightmare hovering over them. Fíli and Kíli scouted its every corner and made it to know the place that was going to be their home as well as they could. However, it still remained far from what they had expected, the dreamy, warm homeland from Thorin’s tales.  
It felt more as if they had taken residency in a giant, burnt and rotten cemetery, more than their promised homeland. They weren’t the only ones suffering from living inside the dusty coffin that Erebor had become: even the others couldn’t hide the disappointment they felt, at the current state of their freshly reclaimed home. This place was a memento of death, loss, despair. Too little trace of happiness could be found, the rest eaten, burnt and destroyed by the dragon.

The only unaffected one was Thorin: he didn’t appear bothered by the rotten and decay, and behaved as if he didn’t actually see them, too enveloped in the dream of gold and greed that the gold sickness was feeding him daily.

“He will not see it” Kíli whispered once, shaking his head in pained realization: “he will never understand that this is never going to be the Erebor he has grown into”

Fíli nodded, pursed his lips, deep in thought. His movement jostled slightly his younger brother, who was snuggled up on his chest.

“This place is basically a mass grave, but he can only see the gold in it” Kíli added in a very, very soft voice.

Fíli sighed as well.

“He must be thinking that all that gold belongs to him. It’s a nice thought, if you think about it. I guess it would tempt even the least greedy dwarf in the world” he considered.

Kíli shook his head. Here, alone, in the sanctuary offered by a room they didn’t trust or love, or even like, only here, only at the presence of the two of them did they dare raise this matter. They didn’t utter a word in front of anyone else. They all looked as they shared the same opinion, but each of them had grown sour and suspicious, when they had seen the state Thorin had fallen into. Just like their king was being lured more and more into his madness, the members of the company grew distant, hobbit included, and no longer confided their thoughts to each other. They all feared the risk of banishment and exile, had Thorin come to known of their real opinions.

“We have been holed up inside here already some days. Thorin can only think of the gold and the Arkenstone” Fíli added again, as an afterthought.

“That gold isn’t his” Kíli said.

He rose on his elbow and turned to look at Fíli straight into his blue eyes. His dark hair was falling down his shoulders and naked back, longer than Fíli had ever seen it. He rose a hand and caressed his shoulder.

“It belongs to the kingdom under the mountain. It belongs to its people. Even if there barely is one”

Fíli chuckled, agreeing.

“You are right. But it is the king who has the duty and honor to administer it. In a sense, it does belong to Thorin, as king”

Kíli frowned.

“And one day to you?” he asked.

Fíli hesitated, caressing the side of his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. Kíli’s dark eyes were so deep, they looked like they could pierce his soul, see straight inside.

“One day it will be my responsibility. Mine to administer, not to own. And I really pray that day will not come too fast” he replied, weighting every word.

Kíli nodded gravely, then smiled.

“Nice answer. Definitely a nice save”

Fíli smirked.

“I always go for nice”

Kíli rolled his eyes and dove for a kiss.

Xxxx

Thorin put everyone but Balin and Ori to look for the Arkenstone. He had mentioned before, during their quest, that he believed his position as king under the mountain would only be recognized by the clans if he had had the Arkenstone to show them. Nobody had bothered replying before, and nobody was allowed to, anymore, now. So they obeyed their king’s command and raided and went through all the treasures in the kingdom, looking for the shiny gem.

The hobbit looked desperate. He must have been faring really poorly, under the earth, away from any ray of sun and flower or trace of green. Even the air probably affected him more than any dwarf. Yet he looked, silently as anyone else, and looked and looked and looked. Sometime he could be lost to sight and found rummaging through gold and chests up, up, up, almost on the top of a pile, with no idea how he had gotten up there, or anybody having noticed.

Bombur was the only one spared from searching, and only for the times when he was supposed to provide them food. It didn’t go unnoticed that Thorin started to approach food breaks as more an act of his generosity than an answer to a real need.

Ori and Balin had been dispensed, because to them the king had assigned the duty to look for traces or mentions of the Arkenstone and possible hiding places in any books that they could find in the archives. Balin had pointed out that that made little to no sense, but it hadn’t helped. It had only taken him up at the top of the list of Thorin’s mistrusted people, right on the line of fire and the first the king suspected of. Second, but it was a close call, came Kíli, for always be Fíli’s shadow, and Fíli himself, for being a treasure himself and refusing to be treated as such.

Xxxx

"I want to try something" Kíli said.

He looked excited, resolute and was slightly blushing. He was also naked, only covered by the blanket that pooled in his lap, and Fíli really, really liked that sight on him, on their makeshift bed.

His dark hair was a mess, his chest covered in dried sweat and cum, and Fíli really, really liked the sight of the lovebites he had worked to make bloom on his pale skin.

"Let's hear it then" he said.

Kíli blushed more. He took hold of the Hem of the blanket as if he had suddenly rediscovered a sense of shame, which made a lovely contrast with the confident way Fíli stood naked in front of their bed.

"Ehr... I'd rather show you" Kíli said.

Fíli smirked.

"Show me, now? Show me what?" he played coy.

Kíli blushed more and reached out with his hand to grab at his wrist.

"Just come here" he demanded, dragging him close.

Fíli snorted but obeyed.

Xxxx

"Kíli... Kíli... Kíli! Oh, fuck, Mahal, Kíli, I swear!" Fíli cried, too wrapped up in ecstasy to care about keeping down the noise.

"Kíli, Kíli, I'm... Kíli Imgonnacum!"

Xxxx

Kíli looked up at him.

Fíli, laid down and boneless on the bed, only rose his eyes and met Kíli's. His brother was naked, nestled between Fíli's equally naked thighs. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and pupils dilated.

And his mouth was full. Of Fíli's semen.

Fíli gaped, incredulous and in awe.

"Kíli..." he started.

Kíli swallowed.

Xxxx

"Yuk! I swear, it tasted better at first!" Kíli complained, making a face.

Fíli growled possessively, grabbed him by the air and dragged him down, splayed on his chest, for a deep, thorough kiss.

Xxxx

Ori called Thorin up to where he kept watch, on the bastion of the sentry. Instead of the hundreds sentinels Erebor had once had, now there was only Ori, and occasionally Balin.

Thorin had heard and took for the stairs, his usually quick steps affected by the long, heavy coat, that demanded a slower pace, for the sake of dignity and a practical reason, like not losing all your dignity by stepping over it, tripping and falling face down on the floor.

By the time the king had made it up to the bastion, so had everyone else, hobbit and Bombur included.

Fíli and Kíli followed Ori’s outstretched arm and gaped.

“Just, how did we miss an entire elvish army marching to our door?” Kíli whispered to Fíli.

“I’m not sure we are the only ones who’ve missed it, Kíli” Fíli replied, casting a careful glance towards Thorin, Balin, Ori himself, and Dwalin.

Balin was a good spotter. Ori had young eyes. Dwalin was famous for being an incredibly warrior, and it would have been impossible to sneak up on him, let alone if you were an entire army. And Thorin, too, had always had a fantastic sixth sense for sensing this thing.

Yet, the king looked positively taken by surprise, as his wrath was evidence of.

Kíli elbowed Fíli and looked at him pointedly.

“That is exactly my point, Fíli” he whispered in a voice so low he was basically just mouthing it.

Fíli held his gaze, nodding imperceptibly.

Thorin looked furious.

Dwalin, Balin, Ori and Nori had the most perfect poker face Fíli had ever seen. Nori, he could imagine it was from experience, but the other three… he wondered if they had been talking to each other, after all.

“How is this possible!” Thorin almost bellowed.

“How did we miss an entire army of elves sneaking up on us!”

He scowled at Ori, and nobody was surprised to see him turn to Balin as well.

“How is it possible that we haven’t seen an army of men, even one so loud and pathetic like the one down there?”

“Yes, Thorin, we have all heard and seen, I don’t think there is any reason to shout like that”

Thirteen pairs of eyes flew on the halfling, whose sarcastic and snarky voice was in contrast with his angry face. Twelve of those stares looked at him, baffled. One tried incinerating him for his irreverent reply.

Master Baggins ignored both.

“Thorin” Dwalin called his king, his voice vaguely pleading.

Thorin turned to his oldest friend, who till now had managed to avoid ending in the list of people he would regard with suspect.

“We should go down and hear what they want” he suggested.

They all looked down, where a minuscule man was riding a horse towards Erebor’s shattered front gate.

“Bard” Fíli whispered.

“Shit!” Kíli whispered back.

They shared a worried glance. They hadn’t had any chance to approach their uncle and tell him about the bats. They hadn’t had any chance to raise the topic of helping the people of Laketown, now in dire need of their support. On the other hand, they knew with absolute certainty that their uncle was... not well.

Thorin grunted and made to leave, his coat fluttering after him.

“Uncle!” Fíli called him in a shout, startling everyone.

Kíli frowned at him.

Thorin stopped, turned, and looked at his hair with careful eyes, with the almost soft look that he would reserve to Fíli, and a harder stare for Kíli, behind him.

“Yes, Fíli?”

“Uncle, let me come with you. Please” he said.

Thorin hesitated. His eyes gave a dark flash, they softened, then they hardened again. Fíli kept his face as emotionless as he could, and felt Kíli tense, behind him.

“Aye” Thorin finally said: “as my heir, you can and you should. But only you” he added.

Kíli winced, as if he had been slapped.

Thorin turned again and went further down the stairs.

Fíli touched his arm. He brought to his mouth the back of Kíli’s hand and placed a very light kiss to his knuckles, then he hurries to follow Thorin down the stairs.

He ignored everyone looking at them.

Xxxx

Thorin refused to offer any help, insulted Bard and the people he represented, and threatened war against men and elves alike. He refused to believe Fíli, when he rushed in to confirm Bard’s story about the bats, and backhanded him harshly, when he interrupted him to beg him to listen.

On the other side of the door, Bard heard, and just nodded.

That night, Fíli and Kíli saw the hobbit sneak out, and didn’t say anything.


	19. Shake the dark away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin spirals downward, Dwalin doesn't get it, Balin dares to say it, Kíli worries, Fíli despairs, Nori and Bofur wait something to happen. 
> 
> Until Bilbo Baggins makes it happen, Thorin loses it, and Fíli is tired of this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fíli/Kíli only mentioned. Thorin x Fíli only mentioned and unilateral. Kind of violent? Maybe. Angsty, definitely.

When Fíli had followed Thorin at the gate to parlay with Bard, Kíli had remained up at the sentry's bastion. He had watched the elvish army and the men's one. His trained eyes had taken in every detail they could: the perfect, efficient structure of the elven army, the knowing, expert way they carried themselves around, the way that showed long familiarity with war. The calculated patience from their king, who was now waiting for Thorin's move, so that nobody could ever hold him responsible of starting a war with the dwarves of Erebor. 

Close to them, the army of the men of Laketown was much less neatly organized, everyone moving in disarray and apparent chaos. 

A few hundreds of desperate men, who didn't have anything to protect or come back to, anymore, and some hundreds of very well trained elves, almost all of whom showed familiarity with war.

Their numbers weren't high but there was no way Erebor could survive a siege, not with still no direct access to water, the little food provisions they had left, and the fact that it was just them, the fifteen members of the company. Minus Thorin, who, since ever picking up the coat that represented majesty, had now taken to distantly order them around, from above, abstaining from doing any practical work in defending his kingdom. And minus the hobbit, who, understandably, looked like he didn't even understand why and how they had fallen so close to starting a war.

"This isn't going to end well" Kíli muttered, louder than he thought.

And dangerously so, for he wasn't alone with his brother's only company, in which he knew he could trust. He was now in front of any other inhabitant of Erebor, and he had expressed his doubts loud and clear for everyone to hear.

But it looked like the tense air of mistrust that Thorin had contributed spreading around them had somewhat dissipated. 

"Aye, lad" Balin said from Kíli's right.

The old advisor of the king shook his canute head and looked at the armies with a carefully neutral expression.

Dwalin approached them, keeping at Kíli's left.

"Thorin said he has already sent a raven to Dain. Even if they arrive on time, we won't resist a siege"

"This is crazy. Why are we fighting elves and men? The orcs are still after us. There is an army of them, coming any minute from now from Dol Guldur" Kíli exclaimed in frustration, looking at each one of the Fundin brothers.

"And those bloodsucking bats, the ones that have already attacked Laketown not even two days ago, they are in liege with the orcs. We should be fighting them both, together with elves and men! Not focus on the elves and men, and let orcs and bats devour and destroy us!"

He turned and searched the eyes of every dwarf present, included their hobbit burglar, who was lingering nearby. Never too close, since entering Erebor, but never too far. 

"The men who ask our help are our creditors. They have helped us, whether only because they were after our gold or not. And some of them have helped us even before knowing we were trying to get here!" he went on: "if the bats come back, those men have nowhere to run for cover!"

"It they come back, the people of Laketown won't survive" Bofur said, in sudden, horrified realization.

"Can't steal your gold if you're dead" Nori deadpanned, with a sad grimace and shaking his head.

"No, Thorin sure won't be too sad about it" Ori murmured, completing his brother's thought.

Kíli felt anger explode in his chest at the little faith they were showing to his uncle, their king, but, it was hardly false. That was the point: Thorin had stopped behaving like Thorin would. 

"Whether they helped us for greed or not, we are debtors to those people. And I refuse to let people die before I get a chance to repay them" Glóin said.

It surprised many of them, that their greedy banker who liked to give away as little gold as he could, would now support the cause of the men of Laketown, who wanted some if the riches of Erebor. Then again, Glóin was a dwarf of honor, and he held in low consideration whoever fell behind on their obligations.

Kíli sighed. He could relate to the redheaded banker. The people of Laketown had helped him the most, especially without knowing who he had been. And even after knowing, they had helped him even after refusing having to do with their quest to Erebor. He thought about Bard, his children, even the two elves. 

He thought of Tauriel, a shock of red hair and pure blue-green eyes, and hands soft and delicate that almost made him cry when she touched him. He thought of the way she had saved him, and the way she had fought with him and Fíli, protecting people from the bats. 

He thought of the elvish prince, tall and blond and looking so ethereal, and yet so deadly when he held a sword. He thought about the way he had dashed out the room and looked for the dragon slayer, all but becoming his shadow after, protecting him and Bain.

They deserved their help. They deserved Kíli's help. 

He thought about the smiles every children and survivor of Laketown had bestowed to him and Fíli, or the trinkets they had insisted they took.

"The help we refuse to them, will make us the greedy ones" Dori said, with a forlorn expression 

Balin shook his head.

"I fear Thorin is too far gone in his suck dreams of gold, to realize what is happening. He won't fear the orcs, not when he thinks we can survive their attack, closed in here. And he won't fear the bats, certainly, nor will he be moved, seeing them kill the people of Laketown"

"But he can be shaken awake!" Dwalin protested, refusing to accept the idea his king and old friend was beyond redemption. "He can be made see reason! Fíli is with him now. Maybe the lad can move him to see! He still holds him in good grace, and still has a good opinion of him. He keeps him close, and cares for what he thinks, as his heir"

Kíli snorted, face twisted into a sad expression at how desperate even Dwalin sounded. Dwalin, who knew Thorin best. 

He shook his head, not knowing how to break it to the old warrior, that it wasn't the esteem he might have felt for him, the reason that made Thorin insist to keep Fíli close.

"Brother" Balin said, with a sigh and a careful, but pointed expression: "Thorin doesn't keep Fíli close because he has esteem of him. And definitely it has nothing to do with the fact that the lad is his heir" he replied, bitterly.

"It's more a hair thing, than an heir thing" Nori said, a twisted grin at the pun and shaking his head.

Many heads were shaken. Kíli looked away, to the armies, the mountains, the sky, anywhere that allowed him not to meet the eyes of his companions. 

He couldn't stomach meeting their eyes, not after knowing they all knew. He felt too much shame, for himself, for Fíli, for Thorin. He felt ashamed that on the Durin's line had befallen such insanity, this hideous inclination for madness. He felt ashamed on Fíli and Thorin's behalf, too, at learning that they all knew what was devouring the king's thoughts.

"This is sick. It's madness" the hobbit murmured, not hiding a speck of his horror.

"Indeed, Master Baggins. This is gold sickness, and it is, in fact, madness" Óin said, with a neutral voice.

"We should have waited for Gandalf. He would know what to do now!" the hobbit exclaimed.

"We didn't have the time" Balin said, half whispering, as if it had been an afterthought.

"If we wanted our only chance to get in Erebor, we didn't have time to wait for Gandalf"

"Then maybe we shouldn't have! What good is this kingdom now, if it only brings you fear, madness and death!" Bilbo Baggins raised his voice again: "you had a king, a decent dwarf, of a good heart, if not perfect, who was lamenting his long lost kingdom. And now you have a kingdom, and less than the ghost of what that same dwarf had once been!" 

"We don't need you to remind us, halfling" Dwalin exclaimed, a cruel voice that did little to hide his pain.

"We all know well" the warrior added in a whisper.

The hobbit swallowed, and shook his head.

"Good, gracious Yavanna. What are we to do now?" Bilbo whispered.

Nobody replied. It had felt like a prayer, and they had no answer to that.

Xxxx

They gathered downstairs, all but Ori, who remained to keep watch, their solitary sentry on an entire bastion.

They arrived in time to witness Thorin backhanding Fíli so hard that it went the prince backwards, slamming against the wall. The next heir of the Durin's line stumbled and caught himself at the very last second, not to fall on the floor.

They all froze, flabbergasted, on the spot on the stairs they were: some at the last steps, some still halfway on the last flight, some still on the landing. Kíli's eyes flashed from his uncle to his brother, his body a coil of tension ready to snap. Only Dwalin's sudden grip on his shoulder stopped him from hurling himself to Fíli's defense.

Thorin's hand was still raised, Fíli against the wall with his face hidden by his cascading, golden hair. The king grabbed a handful and used it to twist Fíli so that he was forced to look up into his eyes. Even at the distance Kíli was, he could see the red mark blossoming on Fíli's cheek and his pained, tense expression.

Thorin leaned in to whisper something at Fíli's ear. Nobody heard, but they all saw the prince close his eyes and wince. The Thorin pushed him abruptly away, making him stumble and sag against the wall.

He tuned and walked out the hall in big steps, his long, black coat of the king's of Erebor fluttering after him. He didn't make contact with anybody, just strode away. 

Kíli ran to his brother's side, helping him up. Fíli's hand had flown at his cheek, whether he had done so consciously or not, and he met Kíli's dark eyes. Kíli saw the tears his older brother was fighting to keep down, and stopped from trying to haul him up. Instead, he knelt down beside him and hugged him, not uttering a word.

Fíli hugged back, his hands clasping at his hair and shoulder.

Thorin had never laid a hand on them.

Never.

Xxxx

"Where do you think the hobbit is going?" Nori asked Bofur.

They were sitting close to each other to fight off the cold, and were smoking their pipes in the silence of the dark hall. 

The miner shook his shoulders and pulled another long drag.

"Do you reckon he's betraying us? Running back home?" Nori mused.

Bofur made a sound.

"Hardly. If he hasn't run away before, I don't see him running away now. Betraying... I don't know. Taking us out of this mess, that I am pretty sure" he said.

Nori snorted.

"I hope" Bofur amended, smirking in the dark.

Their eyes were still on the dark point the hobbit had disappeared a few moments prior.

"Aye, I hope it too" Nori said.

Xxxx

In the room that had once been Thorin's, Fíli and Kíli snuggled close to each other on their makeshift bed. Their eyes felt dry, after silently crying for so long, their heads empty and wrapped in cotton, their bodies incredibly tired. They felt too tired to remember they had been hungry worried, or anything else.

"Do you think we could send a raven to the elves? Tauriel and the prince" Kíli suggested, in a small voice.

Fíli shook his head.

"And risk exposing them to whatever they have found up there? No. We already know they have found something, or we would have seen them at their king's camp" he pointed out.

"What if they need help, then?" Kíli asked again.

Fíli swallowed. 

He thought about the way the two elves had showed up, bringing down orcs when they had attacked them at Bard's house. The way the had danced their death dance against their enemies, whether they had been spiders, orcs or bats. The way Tauriel (Kíli had stopped refraining from using the captain's name, he noticed) and Legolas had helped them fought along them, joined them in the common feat of protecting the people of Laketown. 

They had chosen to explore Dol Guldur. Fíli and Kíli had always been scouts for their uncle. He knew it could be dangerous. Other than hope they hadn't met problems bigger than what they could handle alone, there was little he and Kíli could do.

And it pained him terribly.

"There is no help we can give them, Kíli. The only thing we could have done was helping the people of Laketown by making sure Thorin did not refuse their pleas for help. And we failed. Now... Whatever is coming from that mountain, we won't be able to help anyone, anymore"

Kíli watched his older brother, clear blue eyes empty and sad. He looked like he was drowning in his fear, and Kíli shuddered. It wasn't like Fíli to give up, to surrender to despair. He was so used to see his big brother incensed with fury, as his very last resource, but now he looked empty, the shell of himself.

"They're all going to die, anyway" Fíli added in a whisper, glassy eyes trained on the flames in the fireplace, not really seeing them.

A single tear rolled down his cheek, and it was a strike to Kíli's heart.

"I'm sorry, Kíli, I've failed you" Fíli said.

Kíli hugged him tight.

"Never, Fíli. Never" he whispered, kissing Fíli's forehead.

Xxxx

They woke when they heard Thorin's shouts echoing in the halls, coming down from the sentry's bastion. 

They startled, hands flying to the knives they kept under the pillows. As soon as they realized no threat was immediately in sight, they jumped on their feet and hurried towards where his uncle's shouts were coming from. 

"He's upstairs!" Kíli shouted, bow on his shoulder and sword in his hand. 

"Pass through the main hall! It's faster!" Fíli shouted back, fastening his swords' double scabbard.

They ran through the halls and flew down stairs. The shouts were moving down the stairs as well, coming down from the sentry's bastion to the front gate. Whatever was ailing Thorin, he was coming down here.

They beards many other voices shouting, in different tones that varied from pleading to desperate.

"What the fuck!" Kíli exclaimed.

They met Óin, Glóin and Bifur. Nori and Bofur were also running up from some stairs.

"Where are the others?" Fíli demanded to Nori.

"Balin and Dwalin were with Thorin. Ori and Dori up to keep watch. Bombur is in the kitchen" Glóin answered.

"I'm here!" came the out of breath reply from Bombur.

"And where's Bilbo?" Kíli asked.

The voices became louder, Thorin appeared on the staircase, dragging down something along, holding his right arm huh in the air, and his sword raised in his left.

"In trouble" Óin murmured, paling.

"Thorin!" Dwalin shouted. 

He was running after the king, frantic expression, Balin right behind him, followed by Ori and Dori.

"Thorin! My king! Please!"

"Thorin, Thorin no!"

"You thief! You ungrateful little treacherous thing!" Thorin shouted.

What he was swinging around and dragging in his fist was their burglar, Master Baggins.

"The Arkenstone to the elves!! You couldn't hurt me more, you little bastard!" Thorin shouted, and threw the hobbit down the stairs.

Nori gaped at Bofur, visibly impressed.

"Thorin, Thorin, my king!" Someone pleaded from above.

"I did it for you, you idiotic, stubborn dwarf!" Bilbo Baggins shouted back, trying to pull himself up and escape Thorin's grabbing hands.

"Me!! How could you do this for me! The elven king and that bargeman, here to parley with me, and now they have the only thing I could possibly want! How was did doing it for me!" 

He threw the hobbit further down that stairs and swung his sword.

"Thorin, no!" 

"Bilbo!"

"Uncle! Stop!" Kíli screamed.

He and Fíli ran towards the end of the stairs. They grabbed hold of their bruised hobbit and pushed him up on his feet, shielding him with their bodies.

"Uncle, please!" Fíli shouted, spreading his arms and covering Kíli, too.

Thorin's darkened eyes had ignored everyone's shouts, had seen only the hobbit, the object of their fury, but they now caught on the golden shade of Fíli's blond hair. His expression twisted, going from thunderous to positively murderous.

"You!" he bellowed: "I should have known better than to trust one like you!" Thorin shouted, pointing his finger towards his heir.

"Uncle, please!" Kíli started again.

"Shut up!" Thorin silenced him.

He swung his sword down towards him.

Fíli reacted on instinct, unsheathing his twin ones and using one to block the hit.

His ears didn't hear shouting, didn't see anyone so expression, but the blade, too close to Kíli.

He turned and met Thorin's eyes.

Before he knew it he was parring another hit, this one that Thorin had aimed to himself.

The king withdrew and charged again, a third, fourth, fifth time. Fíli parred all of them, with increasing ease, the shock of being attacked by his dear uncle slowly leaving place to a mounting anger at what the gold sickness had done to him.

"I knew you were a traitor!" Thorin shouted.

"Shut up!" Fíli shouted back.

He was so tired, and angry.

Thorin charged again. Fíli caught Thorin's sword between his twin blades and lunged forward with one of them. He started replying to each of Thorin's hit, Thorin parring with increasing difficulty and not even realizing his nephew had started to hold back.

"Look at you! Look at you, uncle!" Fíli shouted, furious.

"You're the shadow of who you've once been! Look at what you let yourself become!"

He swung and swung forward with his swords. Thorin watched the blades moving with dilated eyes. 

"You should be ashamed of yourself! Is this what being king means? To be cruel and foolish and try to kill who is loyal to you?"

Thorin started to walk backwards, while parring.

"You can't even fight like you used to! Look at you!! You taught me every move! Why can't you fight back? Why can't you fight back! Answer me!" Fíli bellowed, hurt and desperate, fear and frustration turning him to fury.

He swung a sword forward, parred Thorin's pathetic attempt to hit back and sent his uncle's sword flying away.

The elven sword fell on the ground with a clung that echoed in the now silent hall. Thorin took a step back, shoulders meeting the wall. He looked at the prince in front of him with fear in his eyes, and a light of realization that started to twinkle.

Fíli didn't see that. His eyes were too filled with unshed tears, he was shaking, and all his anger had suddenly left him. 

He felt empty, tired, too sad to add a single word. He let his swords fall on the floor, bracketing him, and his legs gave out. On his knees at the king's feet, he looked up and looked into the familiar blue eyes, that had twisted so far from what they used to be.

"Why" Fíli asked, voice hoarse.

"How could you do this to us, uncle? How could you do this to your people, you, who were supposed to lead us to glory and peace?"

His tears started to fall. He didn't care. He barely noticed.

"Uncle, my king. People who deserve your help will die, because if your refusal to save them" he whispered.

"How am I supposed to want to take your place one day, if this is the example you are setting?"

He barely heard muffled steps approaching to him from behind, before Kíli's hand was placed on his shoulder. Thorin's eyes flashed up into Kíli's, then back to his kneeling heir.

"Fíli" the king whispered.

He fell on his knees and engulfed the blond prince in a fierce hug, Fíli's light hair disappearing under the black of the sleeves of Thorin's coat.

Kíli hesitated, searching for Thorin's eyes, and the king dragged him down by his wrist to join the hug. The younger prince fell on his knees and hugged Thorin's face close to his chest, Thorin's hand on his back pushing him closer. 

"Uncle, please" Kíli whispered, tears falling free: "lead us to the light"

"I'm sorry" was all that Thorin said.

Xxxx

The silence was shattered by two sounds piercing the air almost simultaneously: the horns of the dwarven army led by Dain of the Iron Hill, and the horrible shriek of too many bats, who appeared as a black cloud in the sky.

Ori shouted, his voice covered by the screams of the people of Laketown that came from the other side of the heavy door, and by the horns of the orcs' army.

"They're here" Fíli said, emerging from his uncle's arms with a worried expression.

"Good" Thorin said, resolutely watching the dwarves gathered in the room.

And the hobbit with them, bruised, but still there.

His nephews looked into his eyes.

He shrugged off his coat and let it fall on the ground.

"So we can slaughter them all, orcs and bats, together" he said, smiling.

A ripple of laughter tore through the company, as it every member started cheering their king, returned to sanity.

Xxxx

A giant, black cloud appeared in the sky, emitting that horrible sound that Bard remembered from a few nights prior. 

He turned his horse and saw the elven king wince at the high sound, the piercing shrieks hurting his sensible ears even more than Bard's human ones.

For a stupidly long moment, a very careless one, he remained still, his attention fixed on the king solely, admiring his perfect beauty and finding all the similarities that told him this must have been Legolas' father. 

Above them, a bat dove and flew towards them, its talons raised and ready to rip them to shreds. 

It was slain by a perfect, fluid stroke executed by an elegant arm, wielding a shiny sword that drew an arc above their heads.

Bard watched the two halves of the bat fall on the ground, then the elves king. 

Grimacing, the elf turned the elk and nodded to Bard in direction of the camp.

"I suggest we come back for the dwarves later" he said, his voice calm and collected contrasting with his pained expression.

"I second that" Bard agreed, and they ran for cover.


	20. From the shadows you crept out of (the long hours of war)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heros spread out for some action. Fíli and Kíli take on a different task, and stumble upon ghosts of a darker past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insanely long chapter! I know, sorry, but. 
> 
> Multiple POV. Slash only implied. Some hints to Tauriel x Fíli & Kíli

“Get down!” Tauriel shouted, grabbing hold of Legolas’ wrist.

She pulled him down and he let himself fall on the ground, flattening behind the same rock she was using for cover.

Tauriel dared a look beyond their shield and didn’t like what she saw. The orcs troops gathered were even more than she had anticipated, even in her most pessimistic expectations. There was no way the dwarves of Erebor could survive an attack, and she gave the people of Laketown even less chance to make it out alive. She hoped their king, Legolas’ father, was really marching to the mountain. If he had chosen to, he was probably bringing along a few hundreds of his best soldiers. And they definitely needed that.

She scanned the orcs. The army was swarming with horrid creatures, orcs stomping on their place, making the loudest noise she had heard from an army that was supposed to be waiting in relative secret. Had they been a bit louder, she suspected even the dwarves in Erebor would have been able to catch on the noise.

She sat back on her spot close to Legolas, well hidden behind the rock. Her prince was restless, craving a fight, but there was no way the two of them could take on so many opponents in just one go. They had their bows and a still relatively full quiver, she had her sword, he had his long knives and Orcrist, and they were both amazingly skilled fighter, but they couldn’t make it out alive. She physically restrained Legolas by grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards her, again.

His piercing blue eyes snapped back to meet hers, and for a moment he looked furious, as if he was going to demand explanation for being held back, but then he startled.

“I’m sorry, Tauriel” he murmured.

He turned back to peep beyond the rock, then shook his head and turned back to her.

In that moment, Tauriel was reminded of how young Legolas actually was. He looked more like her old friend, the one who had accompanied her for all her life since that distant day they had met, not the prince she knew he was trying to live up to be. He looked fragile, and, deep down, even scared.

“… My mother died here” he told her, looking down at the floor and then up into her eyes.

She didn’t say a word.

Nobody spoke of the queen, Legolas’ mother and Thranduil deceased wife. Nobody was allowed to mourn her, there were no celebration, no memory day, no festivities dedicated to her, whether they celebrated her in life or after her passing. Tauriel wondered why Thranduil had chosen to be this cruel with the woman that he had married, that had born him a child, and that, at least according to what she had heard, had always been to him a loving companion.

If this was a choice dictated by love, she thought, she really didn’t understand how love worked.

“…Oh” was all she could bring herself to say.

Legolas didn’t care for her scarce loquacity.

“My father never speaks of her” he went on: “there is no grave, no memory… all gone” he whispered.

He looked lost, and she suddenly realized how his father’s decision had hurt him, stripping him of the right of a proper bereavement that could give him closure.

This was an open wound for him, one that, she presumed, would be impossible to heal.

Once again she was left asking herself what had been Thranduil thinking, and questioning her king’s decision. Was it selfishness? That he had imposed his own ways to deal with the queen’s passing even over his own son’s needs?

Legolas shook his head, and the fragile look inside his eyes disappeared, leaving in its place his usual focused expression.

“Forgive me, I’m being stupid. This place is just affecting me. We need a plan” he said.

She swallowed, glad that he had shaken himself from his own sad thoughts. She wouldn’t have been able to, wouldn’t have known what to say, and they really, really didn’t have time, given their current predicament.

“We do. The horses are still tired, but if we push them we should make it to Erebor” she suggested.

“Why Erebor? Surely you don’t think the dwarves will offer us protection” Legolas frowned.

She bit her lip.

“I’m quite sure Thorin Oakenshield will not, but his nephews might. If they haven’t fallen for the same sickness that seizes every dwarf at the sight of gold”

“We can’t risk arriving at their door and being stuck out there. We need to warn someone” Legolas replied.

“We will. Don’t you think the people of Laketown will have moved from what remains of their city? The dragon slayer mentioned Dale. They must have hidden in there. And it’s really close to the doors of Erebor. If the dwarves won’t open their door to us, we can warn the men”

Legolas pursed his lips.

“Your father, I am sure, is already marching towards the mountain” Tauriel added: “he will probably make camp as close to the mountain as possible”

“I’m sure he’s already there” Legolas pointed out.

“So, we can go to him!” Tauriel insisted.

“Tauriel, you’re technically banned, and I left him against his orders. He’s not going to be happy to see us. Certainly not to spare his time to listen to us”

“Your father is not stupid, Legolas. He will listen to us”

“Why should he? He doesn’t know the orcs are coming”

Tauriel bit her lip to refrain from sighing in frustration, having just been reminded of how similar Legolas was to his father. She could definitely see whom he must have taken his stubbornness from.

“Everyone has seen the bats, and Mithrandil will be there. He will warn him, and he knows how to deal with your father. He knows him, he knows how to deal with him” she added, noticing his expression and cutting off the remark she knew he was going to make.

He snorted, and turned back again to check on the orcs.

“These bastards are really a lot, aren’t they” he murmured.

“Uhu” Tauriel said, making a small noise of agreement.

“And that white, walking carcass that is leading them surely looks hideous” she added.

Legolas snorted through his nose and smiled at her.

“I’m sorry, next time we’ll make sure to find you an enemy whose army is led by someone you find esthetically enticing” he joked.

“Mmm, doesn’t sound bad. Might be a dwarf, maybe?” she joked back.

He frowned instantly.

“Just because I haven’t condemned that disgraceful infatuation for a certain dwarf prince it doesn’t mean that you have to remind me every now and then that now you fancy dwarves, thank you”

“Ok, first, I don’t fancy dwarves, I fancy that one. He’s tall for a dwarf, you said it yourself. And I think he’s cute. And actually, his brother is pretty cute, as well. Makes a sick game with his blades”

Legolas gaped at her, half shocked and half drowning in disgust.

“Please tell me that was not a sexual pun. Please, please gracious Nienna, let it not be a sexual pun. I could vomit”

“You have a thousand orcs behind you who stink worse than death, how does that not make you vomit? And no, it wasn’t a sexual pun. I was merely referring to the way he’s skilled in battle” Tauriel replied, cheeks reddening slightly.

Legolas made a face as if he was giving thanks to the sky, and Tauriel punched him on the arm.

“Just because it's dragon slayers that get you hot instead of dwarves, it doesn’t make you any less a freak than me, you know” she teased him.

He looked down at her whipping his neck so fast, she wouldn’t have been surprised it’d hurt.

“He does not. I do not fancy him, at all” he said, hotly.

“Oh, of course you don’t. Sure” Tauriel said, sticking his head out enough to watch the orcs again, in all safety.

“Tauriel. I do not” Legolas insisted.

“Mmm”

“Tauriel”

“Whatever flings your boat, Legolas. I don’t judge” she said, still looking at the plain where the orcs were gathered.

“… Whatever. But he’s still too… human. Different. I don’t know, something is wrong with him, I guess”

She grinned and turned back to look at his companion in his face.

“So, is that you admitting you fancy the dragon slayer?”

Legolas shrugged: “Better than a dwarf, and you know it”

She smirked.

“The blond one is good with his swords, though, you have to admit it. Some of his moves are better than mine, even yours” she insisted.

“Some” Legolas stressed with steel eyes.

“Only some”

“Of course” Tauriel said.

“Whatever. Let’s run to the horse. Once we are close to Erebor we can decide if we have the time to try and approach your dwarves or if my father is already there”

Tauriel snorted.

“Yes, I know” said Legolas, in a perfectly neutral and yet sarcastic tone: “we can choose between stubborn and mad, or madly stubborn”

“Nice choice” she replied.

Xxxx

They rode fast towards Erebor. They were silent, but couldn’t do much for the noise produced by the hooves of the horses hitting the ground while they galloped away.

The orcs must had caught on them, by now, which only prompted them to go faster.

They could already see the lake and the gates of the kingdom under the mountain, when they heard the terrible, piercing shriek that announced the bloodsucking bats. They winced and bent over the necks of their horses, Tauriel already working to tear out a stripe of cloth from her long shirt and wrapping it around her ears.

“Does it really help?” Legolas asked, wincing in pain.

“Not much, but” Tauriel replied.

Legolas copied her.

A bat flew in their direction while he was still fastening his stripe, securing it behind his nape. The creature was bigger than the ones they had fought some days prior, as black and hairy, and its fangs and talons sharper than they liked.

Tauriel slew it while it was still midair over the two of them, its halves falling on the ground. They passed them before they could hear the sound they made when they fell.

“These bastards are worse than the orcs” Legolas shouted, struggling to tune out the shrieks and speak over their sound.

He unclasped the bow from his fastenings, notched an arrow and let it fly straight into the black cloud of bats.

Tauriel snorted: she definitely agreed.

Xxxx

“Thorin, I’m glad to see you” Gandalf said.

“Don’t start. Let’s focus on the orcs” the king replied, stopping with a glare and a half-raised hand the sass and reprimands that he was sure the wizard were coming up with.

Gandalf smiled in good will.

“I really am glad to see you back, Thorin Oakenshield” he repeated.

“We need to drive the bats away from the people of Laketown” Bilbo Baggins said, slipping between the dwarf king and the wizard.

“Dain and the elves are keeping the orcs busy” Kíli appeared from Thorin’s right, Fíli right behind him.

“They will need help” Thorin pointed out.

“We need to split” Dwalin suggested.

“Some of us can join Dain. It will help him and his dwarves, if only not making them think they are fighting for us while we are safe inside Erebor”

“Me and Kíli can help the people of the city. We can ride to Dale, that’s where they have made camp, isn’t it?” Fíli suggested.

“Two dwarves can’t do much against an entire flock of bats, Fíli” Gandalf replied, frowning: “you and Kíli might be good fighters, but that is unrealistic”

“It might be, but it’s a start” Kíli replied, resolute.

“Kíli, Gandalf has a point. We need to divide. The orcs are arriving. You heard how many they are” the hobbit said, raising a hand in a very teacher-like manner.

“I’m coming with you” Tauriel said, stepping up from the spot she and Legolas had retreated after informing the group of the impending threat.

“I’m going with the others. We need to keep the orcs busy” Legolas added, watching Tauriel straight in the eyes.

Gandalf addressed Fíli and Kíli.

“I have done some researching” he started: “the bats are connected to each other. Better, they are connected with the mother’s body. Originally, they were destroyed when Thuringluethil was killed. This means that either she has been relived, just as Azog has, or the Necromancer has given another mother for them. It is also possible that he has brought back in this world all of the bats previously dead, but that would require a waste of his energies”

“You think they have a new mother” Fíli repeated.

“We need to find her and kill her” Kíli said.

Gandalf nodded.

“This is what I think best. She cannot be too far from here: she must stay close to the bats. But this doesn’t mean that she has to be in the exact proximity of their offsprings” he explained with a grimace.

“She could be anywhere” Legolas pointed out, frowning: “you will never find her”

“Are you always so positive?” Fíli snapped at him.

Tauriel raised one hand between them before the glare Legolas was casting in the blond dwarf prince’s direction turned into something else.

“We need to protect the people of Laketown, from bats and orcs alike. And we must try to find the mother. If we managed to take the bats out of the picture, this would all be much simpler”

“We would only have a thousand orcs to worry about” the hobbit added, more as an afterthought than an actual attempt at irony.

“We take the orcs. Dwalin, you, Balin and the Ur brothers come with me. The Ri brothers, send them to assist the people of Laketown”

“We don’t need extra protection” said a voice.

Bard the bargeman, now Bard the Dragon Slayer, made his entrance in the tent the group had gathered. Beside him, the elven king strode in, the embodiment of perfection, even despite the way he would occasionally flinch at the highest shrieks the bats emitted.

“We can take care of our people” Bard repeated: “focus your attention on the orcs, Thorin Oakenshield. You and the elves” he stopped, turned and raised an eyebrow in direction of the elf king, in a silent question.

King Thranduil, who would rarely lower himself to speak with anybody but an another elf of his position or someone he seemed his equal, surprisingly nodded, and Bard went on talking to Thorin.

“You and the elves should focus on the orcs. But I agree, someone should try to find the mother of these cursed flying monsters”

Tauriel and Legolas exchanged a silent, impressed glance, seeing their king listen to a mortal.

Thorin nodded.

“Better. Fíli, Kíli… You know what to do. Be careful”

“I’m coming with you” Tauriel repeated in a whisper to the dwarven princes.

They nodded. Legolas glared at them, then leaned towards his redhead friend, murmuring very close to her ear that she be careful. She smiled at him and left the tent. Fíli and Kíli followed her.

Xxxx

Thorin and the dwarves of the company joined Dain’s army in the plain in front of Erebor.

The elves and the army of the men took on the orcs between what remained of the old city of Dale and the side of the mountain.

Gandalf and Bilbo split and joined the first the latter, the second the former.

Bilbo Baggins, burglar extraordinaire, hobbit who could sneak up on a firedragon and most recently called also betrayer of friends (though he suspected Thorin was going to make amend for that insult very, very soon - if they survived the day, that is), clutched Sting close to his small chest, prayed quickly for his own survival and the one of his friends’, and launched himself in his first battle ever.

Xxxx

Bard led the people of Laketown.

He kept hold of his sword so tight he stopped very soon feeling his fingers. He swung it left and right and barely had time to plan how to fend off the orcs and bats coming his way. He didn’t think about gold or glory. He didn’t think at all.

He certainly felt too busy to realize how terrified he was.

He was sure his swings had no grace, but, as long as orcs and bats were talking under his blade, he was not going to complain. He was certainly very grateful for all the help the elven king would give him, staying so close to him. And he no longer wasted time to stare in awe at the graceful moves of the other, the way he looked like killer perfection, or the perfect killer.

He certainly felt like he had just almost had a heart attack when he saw Bain, Tilde and Sigrid in the middle of the battlefield the old city had turned into.

When he accidentally caught sight of Alfred being splattered by a wall of stones that came crumbling down onto him, he might have even smiled in satisfaction.

Not that he would ever tell anybody.

Xxxx

“Legolas! Where do you think you are going!!”

“I believe he’s riding a warg and joining Thorin Oakenshield’s side of the battlefield, sire”

“Thank you, Rigel, I hadn’t realized. Legolas! Come back here this instant! Oh, I am going to kick his skinny ass, see if I don’t!”

“My lord, he needs to survive for that”

“Of course he’ll survive, he knows I would kill him otherwise!”

“… Of course, sire”

Rigel decided to shut up, and went back slicing orcs. His king was… unusually irritable and vulgar, in battle, and he made little sense. Especially now that his only, reckless son had just decided to throw himself into the most violent side of the battlefield.

Xxxx

Tauriel walked before the two dwarves, sword firmly in her hand and eyes trained on whatever it moved. She was trying to hear all the sounds exploiting her fine elvish hearing, but it was a struggle with the frequent piercing sound of the shrieks of the bats. That really hurt her eardrums, and she had by now developed a terrible headache that made her more tired, worn out, and even keeping her eyes open hurt terribly.

“You should cover your ears more than that” one of the princes said.

She ignored it and didn’t give in the impulse of turning and watching whichever of the two had talked.

“You know, you aren’t the only one with highly developed hearing, in here. Let us be the ears and just use your sight” said the other voice.

This time she turned.

The blond one was giving her a pointed look, and she guessed it had been him talking this second time.

It actually sounded like a good idea. She didn’t reply, but made to tear off some more cloth from her tunic. The blond dwarf stopped her, gripping her wrist.

“Don’t” he said.

His hand was warm and so much bigger than hers. His skin felt like a furnace close to hers, so cool instead, and his grip was firm but didn’t mean to hurt, just hold her.

The blond prince motioned to his brother with his chin. The brunet one was already unwrapping something from his neck, where she noticed he was wearing a loose scarf. A dirty, sweaty and very ragged scarf, but still thicker than any piece of cloth she could tear out from her own clothing.

He offered it to her and smiled.

She snorted, but took it nonetheless. The phantom heat left on her wrist by the hand of his brother lingered, and it made her blush. Which promptly reminded her that they were on a life or dead mission, and the lives of many depended from them.

“Thank you” she said.

She resumed walking, while wrapping the scarf around her head in a turban of some sort. The dwarves followed her, still silent. She found the scarf thick enough she could, with some effort, almost tune out the disturbing shrieks that would from time to time reach them.

She also found now impossible not to notice that, despite being sweaty and dirty, the scarf didn’t exactly stink. And, keeping it so close to her nose made it impossible for her to tune out the smell of the princes that walked behind her.

‘Now it’s really not the time, Tauriel’ she scolded herself.

But that… scent, it was definitely one of the best she had ever smelled.

Oh, had Legolas heard her thoughts! She almost smiled thinking at the face his friend would have made.

Then she noticed something and stopped.

She stood in the middle of the path they were following, up the mountain and towards one of the caves, the one she and Legolas had imagined the bats had come from.

It wasn’t that she had seen something, or heard something. But she could definitely feel something, and it was an oppressive kind of something, something terribly malicious that was approaching them. Or that they were approaching.

“Did you see anything?” the brunet prince whispered, very close to her right.

She shook her head.

“Did you hear? Feel? Anything?” the blond one prompted, at her left.

She shook her head again, this time slower, then she swallowed.

“I felt something. I feel it. Something evil, coming our way” she whispered.

“Is it coming to us, or us coming to it?” the brunet asked.

The blond swiftly and silently unsheathed his twin swords, the brunet took his bow and notched an arrow. She placed the palm of one hand on the hilt of her sword, but waited before unsheathing it.

She breathed through her nose and tried to use her eyes and her inner sight to better grasp this presence. It was unsettling, dark, and evil. It had no other intention but to kill and maim. And it was ancient.

She really, really hoped this wasn’t the Necromancer. They didn’t have a single chance of survival, in that case.

But it didn’t feel that powerful, at least she thought.

And there was something much more… animalistic in it, that she couldn’t imagine the Necromancer to have. Although he had been a shape shifter, once, and it could explain an animalistic ‘something’ coming off from him.

“It’s here, I think. It’s close” she whispered.

“So, we are close to it” the blond one repeated: “or is it moving?”

She closed her eyes.

It wasn’t moving.

She opened her mouth to say so, but then it moved. Fast.

She opened her eyes in a flash.

“It’s coming” she said, not bothering to keep her voice down.

“It’s coming!” she repeated, feeling it approaching too fast, but she didn’t make it in time to extract her sword from the scabbard, and was sent flying meters back.

She fell on the ground, the princes landing not too far from her.

“Kíli!”

“I’m here, I’m fine!” the brunet said, raising his bow.

A greyish fog had fallen, and they couldn’t see but the silhouettes of whatever was around them. Kíli tried to aim, but he couldn’t even be sure what he was aiming towards.

Tauriel tried again closing her eyes and focusing on the dark presence, but she could only say that it was… there.

Then she took her bow from her back, notched an arrow and let it loose exactly over her head, where a giant bat dodged at the very last second.

The creature landed a few meters behind them, on a pointy rock. An unpleasant, cold laughter ripped the silence, and the fog slowly dissipated.

“Well, well. We have a smart one here, brother”

“Looks like, Khîm” a second voice replied.

The princes startled, behind her.

“Ibun” they said in unison.

She frowned, but didn’t move from her position, another arrow notched and bow trained on the figure she could see in front of her.

When the fog lifted completely, she realized that, what she had mistaken for just another bat had wings as a bat, but the body of a dwarf. It was slighter smaller than a normal dwarf would be, and it had mean looking red eyes, and the same fangs and talons that she had already seen on any other bat.

The creature smiled, his eyes landing on the dwarves behind her.

“My princes. We meet again” he purred.

A second creature, almost identical to the first, landed close to him.

“You know them, Ibun?” he asked to his companion.

The other smirked and licked his fangs.

“I had the pleasure of almost eating one of them, yes” he replied.

The other snickered.

“Did you almost eat the pretty brunet one? I bet his blood taste delicious. He smells amazing” he said, lunging forward with his body from his perched position.

He spread his lips in a fanged smile and took a deep sniff.

“No, brother. I went for the golden jewel” the first replied, eyes trained on the blond prince at Tauriel’s left.

She moved imperceptibly, angling her bow so that she had the chance of actually hitting both of them with a single arrow. Although she doubted they would let her: these two looked much better at flying and dodging arrows than the rest of the bats she had already slain.

The vampire that had planted his eyes on Kíli snickered.

“You always liked jewels, almost as you like blood” he said.

The other laughed cruelly.

“Nothing is better than gold and blood. Except when you can have both, and a lot of them. Remember the good old days in Amon Rûdh?” he said, swiping a black tongue against his fangs.

She froze.

Amon Rûdh? The elvish realm where Sindar elves had lived, only to be slain by the dark evil lord Morgoth?

“The… what did you say?” she demanded.

The two creatures smiled. There was a cruelty in their red eyes that had little to do with the hunger they showed for the dwarven princes at her back.

“Look at that, the pretty maiden elf knows the story” the one on her right purred.

She breathed through her nose, to stay calm and fight the acrid smell of rotten blood that came from the creatures.

These were vampires. But they didn't exist since a very long, dark past. And they knew of Amon Rûdh, which had happened long ago. They looked like dwarves, but they were much smaller: could they be tad-dail, or, as any Sindarin elf would call them, Nibin-Nogrim, petty dwarves? They were supposed to have died out, but, it would explain why they knew of Amon Rûdh.

The elves of Amon Rûdh had been betrayed by one of the Nibin-Nogrim that had originally welcomed them there. They had let the darkness in, and the evil lord had massacred every elf he had found.

One of the Nibin-Nogrim had also stolen and cursed the treasure that the old king Hurin Thalion had brought with himself to Doriath…

She clenched her jaw.

If these two had been responsible for all that death and sufferance, they were in for a painful death.

But they were supposed to be dead, not having been turned into evil creatures. More than that, they were not supposed to having been turned into a replacement for the Woman of the Secret Shadow.

They had on their conscience the blood of thousand elves, when they were dwarves. Now they had been transformed into creatures that had been made akin to one of Sauron’s heralds in his quest for the Silmaril jewels.

She knew not to expect them to redeem. And she judged them guilty enough to deserve death.

The only problem was that she wasn’t sure she, or Fíli or Kíli, would survive long after bringing justice upon these creatures.

Xxxx

“One of you is supposed to be dead” Tauriel said.

Fíli and Kíli watched in silence. The way Ibun and his companion were looking at them, red eyes pinning them on their spots, were making them itch to move, fidget, stand up and raise their swords at them, but they didn’t move a muscle.

‘What does Tauriel know?’ Fíli wondered.

Ibun’s red eyes widened and his pointy tongue lapped at the fangs he showed when he smiled.

He looked much different from the dwarf that he and Kíli had met a long time before. Even on their last meeting, Ibun hadn’t had this form he now had: Fíli was sure he hadn’t had wings, for starters. Everything else – the fangs, the black, pointy tongue, the talons… he couldn’t be sure.

He had looked like a dark creature that had had memories of being other, different.

Now, though, he looked pure evil, and nothing else.

Fíli fought with all his might against the need to shiver.

He bet Kíli, under the other vampire’s intense gaze, wasn’t faring any better.

“The pretty maiden elf is referring to you, Khîm” Ibun said, not moving his eyes from Fíli, but angling his head slightly towards his companion.

“Oh, brother, what a shame! The princes don’t know our story, the sons of Durin, and an elf does” the other tsked.

“How sad”

“Why don’t we tell them?” Ibun proposed, smirking.

“Elf, tell them what you know” the second vampire, Khîm, ordered.

Tauriel sent an arrow flying, but he vampires dodged it easily, pushing up from their spot into the air.

They tsked and let themselves fall once again on their perch.

“Bad elf. Tell them the story, come on” Ibun repeated.

“Tell them, or they will die ignorant” Khîm pressed, smirking.

Tauriel swallowed and lowered her bow.

A smart move, Fíli thought, since the creatures were two fast to be killed by arrows.

“Your kind betrayed the elves who lived in Amod Rûdh. The Nibin-Nogrim Mim, a petty dwarf, and his son Ibun let the evil in. Many lives were lost because of you”

She stopped, and Fíli could guess she was frowning at the second vampire.

“But you were already dead by then. You were killed by an arrow of Turin’s outlaws. You are the reason why he stayed and mingled with your father. He helped him. And when Turin led his people to what he believed was a safe place, your father betrayed him. All of them”

The vampires smiled.

“It wasn’t an arrow that killed me, little elf. But an arrow from Turin’s outlaws did pierce my heart” Khîm nodded.

“He had already been turned by will of our lord Tar Marion, Sauron. He made him into new life, a glorious one. And after him, our lord Sauron turned our father Mim, and then me” Ibun went on.

Fíli struggled to keep his expression neutral.

“Turin was an usurper. The elves deserved to die. Our lord gave us a chance for revenge. This is our second chance. We will not need a third one” Khîm said.

“No” agreed Kíli, standing up and unsheathing his sword.

“You are right, you will not get a third chance. We will kill you, now, once and for all”


	21. Catch me if I fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long, long and frantic hours of war, and then the end. Maybe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long!!!
> 
> Shifting POV.
> 
> Fíli x Kíli only brotherly. Unreciprocated vampire x Fíli and vampire x Kíli. Vague Fíli x Kíli x Tauriel and Tauriel x Fíli and Kíli. 
> 
> Maybe slight hints of other pairings. 
> 
> Bagginshield, finally.

The vampires grinned, baring their fangs. The dim light of the sun filtering through the heavy, dark clouds shone on them, making them appear even sharper than they were.

The fog that had fallen when the creatures had landed in the clearing had thinned out, but hadn’t disappeared completely. Now, it was stuck in form of clouds and filtered the sunlight, veiling everything with thin shadows. It was unsettling, made every corner fuzzy, and it blurred the line where the cliff ended and fell abruptly into nothingness.

Not exactly the type of weather Fíli enjoyed, this close to a precipice of a dozens meters. Of course the vampires would nest somewhere in Dol Guldur: close enough to Erebor and Dale for their creatures to fly there, but safe enough for them to find shelter from threats.

Unless the threats came their way, like Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel had done.

He swallowed. He wondered if these two creatures could control the weather. It wouldn't be that surprising: light seemed to bother them, even Ibun himself had said so, in the cave under the goblins’ lair.

He regretted not having something that shone with pure light, like Gandalf’s staff had had. He was sure they would benefit greatly by that.

The vampires just looked at the three of them. They waited, perched on the tips of some rocks, meters away from the trio of team light, the proof that fleeting alliances between elves and dwarves could exist. They waited and grinned at them, and Fíli hated those cursed red eyes, boring into him and Kíli with just as much intensity as they would watch Tauriel with hate.

Tauriel, who knew the history. Who knew the vampires, who knew who they were. Or at least who they had been. She had talked about bloodshed, betrayal and dark creatures, from a past that was long gone. For a foolish moment, Fíli felt a millisecond of euphory and pride, at realizing he had fallen into something so much bigger than the already great quest for Erebor he and Kíli had set off for. Greater and darker powers were involved. He felt as if that made him more of a hero.

Was everything really so interconnected? Was this really him, Fíli Durin, and Kíli and Tauriel, fighting against the servants of the dark? It was a cobweb of incredible coincidences, but it looked true. Azog had been brought back to life for the specific purpose of killing Thorin, after all. It was so. It was like that.

Then he realistically considered how deep the shit they had fallen into was, and the euphory died into a cold sweat. He repressed it, pushing it down, just in case the vampires could smell it. This was a mess, and it didn’t look good. The three of them, good fighters, yes, but that was just what they were: three good fighters. Against creatures of the dark at the service of such a great evil power. Creatures no arrow could kill, and too fast for swords.

‘Swords probably have more chance to succeed’ he calculated.

‘But this means we have to be really close to those fangs and claws…’

He really didn’t like that.

He swallowed again. Kíli’s words had sounded cool, but, they might have been a tad unrealistic, he feared. He had every intention of making them come true, but he was very much aware that the odds were against them.

Very against them.

“You can try, pretty thing” the second vampire, Khîm, purred.

He looked at Kíli with his dark red eyes, with hunger and desire. He looked at him with even more viciousness than what Fíli saw in Ibun’s eyes, when the vampire would look his way. Not the hate they would reserve to Tauriel, though, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

He almost gave in to the hysterical laugh that threatened to escape him. He’d been desired by so many, even when he hadn’t done a thing to encourage it, or even enjoyed being at the receiving end of those attentions. And now, it looked like he had even conquered the dead. Or the damned, for, if Ibun couldn’t technically be considered dead, surely his soul was a cursed thing.

At least this time it wasn’t just Fíli, he thought, but Kíli too. Not that it made it better. Actually, it made it pretty worse, because he had to worry for Kíli, too.

“You will fail, pretty thing. We are too strong for you. Stronger than the past. No arrow will pierce our skin, now. We are immortal” Khîm went on.

Tauriel let her bow fall on the ground, pushing it out of her way with her foot. She unsheathed her sword and brought it in front of her, ready.

“We shall see about that” she dared them, looking at both vampires with determination in her eyes.

She didn’t seem particularly concerned that the creatures wanted her dead, more than they wanted Fíli and Kíli dead. She had stepped between the dwarven princes and the vampires, as if she meant to protect the first, and shielded them with her body.

Fíli had no doubt they couldn’t have better protection, but he didn’t feel comfortable, leaving her so exposed. She was the one the creatures looked the worst way, after all, with the deepest hatred. She wasn’t delicate, but she was the one whose neck was risking the most.

Ibun hissed slowly in her direction. There was no mistaking the feeling in his eyes.

“You will die, you filthy elf”

“A pretty painful death, we will make it” Khîm sing-sung, and smiled revealing more of his fangs.

“Pretty, with lots of red blood”

“Precious, delicious red blood, gushing from your tiny, little neck, little elf” Ibun added, boring his red eyes into her and smiling cruelly.

“You know what, you’re really annoying” Kíli interrupted them, raising his sword in front of him.

“If you’re so strong as you claim, how about you stop talking and do something?”

Fíli snorted, wishing his brother hadn’t said it. However, he didn’t get enough time to finish that thought. The vampires pushed up from their perch, and dove in a flash towards Tauriel, talons stretched out.

Kíli grabbed Tauriel’s arm and pulled her back, Fíli fended them off with one sword, using the other to push them further away from her.

Tauriel glared at Kíli and shook his hand off her. She took her previous position, sword raised, ready for the next attack of the vampires.

“Don’t fight my battles” she told the princes, not bothering looking their ways.

Kíli snorted, taking position behind her.

“You’re welcome” he said.

He looked at Fíli and Fíli smirked for a second, before focusing again on the threat in front of them.

“I can take care of myself” she repeated.

“So can we” Fíli replied, but his words were covered by Khîm sharp, cruel laughs.

“Yes, my beautiful prince, my shadow of the day. Do not stand in the way. I wouldn’t want risk harming your pretty face, next time you jump in to help her”

“Fuck you” Kíli spat.

“Mmm, feisty” the other moaned, his grin turning lewd and malicious at the same time: “I like that”

“Must be the Durin’s blood. That delicious Durin’s blood. It makes all Durins more passionate” Ibun said, eyes on Fíli, and wiggled his eyes, moving eyebrows he no longer had.

Fíli refused to take the bait and blush, but felt every ounce of remorse his body could provide him with.

This horror of a monster had been his first kiss. Under another form, yes, but it didn’t change much. Curse him and his haste and curiosity, Fíli thought.

“Are talking for experience, brother? I don’t remember us slaughtering a Durin” Khîm asked, sounding sincerely curious, and still with that insufferable lewd grin.

“There isn’t only blood for feasting, brother mine” Ibun answered, grinning more and wiggling his eyes once again.

Khîm burst in laughter.

“You are disgusting” Tauriel said: “And you aren’t going to rile them up in this stupid way”

Ibun joined his brother, their laughs emitting piercing sounds that hurt almost as much as the shrieking of the bats.

“Oh, child of the disgusting light” Ibun started with a very patronizing tone: “we aren’t trying to rile them up. We are simply talking for personal experience. I can tell you, the blood of the heirs of Durin is for us the sweetest thing on existence. And it makes enjoying their company so much more… exciting, if you know what I mean. You should try it… try them”

He winked at her.

Fíli felt a rush of shame, and couldn’t help the red that stained his cheeks.

On Tauriel’s other side, Kíli’s face darkened, and he could already imagine his brother feeling responsible for pushing Fíli towards what it turned out to be a monster.

“Whether that is true or not, it doesn’t change that you really are disgusting”

“Why, for telling you the truth, now? Are you too pure to hear it?” Ibun mocked her.

“Brother, I am afraid the little elf doesn’t know what to do with a gift like the bodies of our beautiful princes” Khîm said, licking his fangs.

“Let’s kill her quickly. I want to have more time to… dedicate to my beautiful night, over there” he winked at Kíli.

“Just remember, brother, the blond one is mine” Ibun said.

Khîm scoffed.

“You can have him, Ibun. You know how I like… darker things than you do”

The vampires dove towards them, Tauriel dodging Khîm’s talons. He produced a short sword and swung it her way. She parred it quite easily and jumped back to safety.

Kíli rammed with his shoulder into her side and pushed her further back, shielding her. She shouted something in Sindarin, but Kíli didn’t understand, too busy dodging Khîm’s sword and claws.

Tauriel grabbed Kíli’s wrist, pulling him back to safety, just in time for Khîm’s talons to miss Kíli’s shoulder. Kíli fell on top of Tauriel, his back on her chest. The vampire tried to attack again, but she sneaked her arm out from under Kíli and fended him off. She pushed Kíli away, and he rolled off of her easily.

Ibun lunged for Fíli, but he dodged easily, expecting the move. He raised his twin swords in front of him, like a big pair of scissors. The vampire grinned, upper lip curled over his fangs.

“You still look delicious, my prince” he purred.

He dove right, changing at the last second and going for Fíli’s left, but the prince recovered quickly enough to fend him off. Ibun flew higher, dodging Fíli’s new attack.

“I can’t tell you the same. You certainly look worse” Fíli replied: "you’ve been looking worse and worse since the first time”

Ibun chuckled darkly.

“And I no longer meet your taste, do I?” he asked, lunging forward.

A short sword appeared in his hand, a twin to the one Khîm was now using. Fíli parred with his own and swung his way one of his twin blades, to force the creature back. He almost caught the vampire’s arm, the one he was now using to hold his own blade, but missed.

“No” Fíli replied, when Ibun hovered a few meters up from him, pausing: “no, you definitely don’t”

Ibun chuckled again.

“I wonder why!”

“You look too much like a monster, sorry” Fíli replied, parring a new attack.

Ibun retreated and laughed again.

“You still look like the sun, instead. Delicious and pure, like a diamond. You make me want to corrupt you”

He dove forwards again. Fíli brought up his swords but the vampire feigned at the last moment. Ibun landed behind him. Fíli turned and caught his short sword between his twin ones, only at the last second. He managed to push him away and made to attack, but Ibun spread his wings and whipped the air, sending Fíli off-balance and forcing him to take some steps back.

“Draining you will be the sweetest thing” he purred.

Fíli feinted left and lunged right.

Ibun parred, but didn’t stop Fíli’s second blade in time.

Fíli jerked the blade away. Drops of black blood stained the air and landed on the green grass, burning it immediately.

A terrible sound exploded, the shrieks of a thousand bats, and Khîm, who whip-turned towards the wounded vampire. Ibun, hovering over Fíli, dried the blood oozing from the gush on his arm. He raised the hand of the uninjured arm to stop him.

“I am fine, brother” he said.

Khîm hissed at Fíli anyway.

“I said, I am fine!” Ibun repeated, raising his voice and glaring at Khîm.

The other frowned, but stood straighter where he hovered in the air.

Ibun turned again to Fíli, smiling predatorily.

“I’ve changed my mind. You are too precious to drain you, only. I shall not eat you. I don’t know if I can succeed, but, by all that is unholy, I swear I shall try”

“Try what!” Kíli exclaimed.

Ibun didn’t look away from Fíli, and grinned viciously.

Khîm chuckled.

“We will not eat you, my dark prince” he explained: “we will turn you”

Fíli ground his teeth.

Ibun was still smiling, cruel and predatorily, at him.

“You will be mine, forever” the vampire murmured, in a promise.

Xxxx

Thorin strained under the assault of the orcs. He was covered in sweat, blood and gore. He was starting to accuse the pain of some of the hits he had received. 

At his side, Dwalin slew two orcs with his axe, and other three with an orc spear he stole from a corpse. He impaled the three opponents and stabbed the spear in the ground with them still attached to it. 

He turned, and their eyes met, the warrior and the king. 

They had fought together many times already. Maybe it was because this time they were older, or their enemy this time was stronger: for the first time, they felt really close to death. 

'Is this the day we die?' Thorin asked himself.

His eyes caught sight of the hobbit, not too far from them. He was putting up a surprisingly good fight, with his short sword and quick feet. He went for legs and tendons of his opponents, and, once he'd brought them to their knees, he would stab their throats. 

"Not bad, our burglar, uh?" Dwalin chuckled, impressed.

Thorin turned, smiling at his friend. 

He saw the orc running towards Dwalin and shouted at him to watch out, but didn't manage to say it that the tip an elven arrow sprouted from the middle of the orc's forehead. 

Dwalin turned and startled. 

They looked and saw the elf prince already running away, towards his next goal, slaying wargs and orcs and jumping from one to the other, up to trolls' shoulders and cutting their throats open. 

Thorin shook his head. Then saw with the back of his eye an orc coming his way. 

He pulled an axe out of the skull of one at his feet, and launched it in the face of the orc charging him. He let him fall to the floor, then pulled it out and threw it towards the huge beast that was giving the hobbit a hard time. 

The hobbit pushed the carcass to the ground without even looking up from the next orc whose throat he was slicing open.

"Thank you!" he shouted, without knowing to whom he was really saying that.

Dwalin and Thorin chuckled.

"He looks busy!" Dwalin said.

And dodged a swing from an insistent orc that was reclaiming his attention. He punched his face and broke his nose.

Thorin laughed.

"So are we, in case you've forgotten!"

Xxxx

The mortal was a good fighter. 

He lacked any fine skill or elegance in his moves, but was clearly driven by the fire that animates whoever fights to defend more than just their life.

He had something to protect.

Thranduil cut the throat of a bat coming his way, and risked a glance towards the plain where the dwarves were fighting off the orcs' army. He found a shiny blond head, moving extremely fast and leaving a track of dead orcs in its trail.

After so many years since the day he had stopped, Thranduil raised a prayer to the Valar, asking that they protect is son.

Xxxx

Kíli was bloody and bruised. He was panting on the ground, all his weight propped up only thanks to his sword. 

His broken leg limped at his side, and hurt terribly, but he hadn't had the chance to stop moving on it. He hoped he hadn't shattered too many bones. Not too much, at least.

The vampires had tried once too many to push Tauriel down the cliff. It was becoming difficult to keep them from succeeding. 

Khîm still hovered over Kíli and the elf: his pale skin was bruised, and there were a few gashes they had managed to open on his arms and feet, just like Fíli had with Ibun. However, the vampires were still in force, and the three of them weren't. 

Kíli was injured, with a broken leg. Tauriel had a couple of deep cuts on her shoulders and arms. She looked tired, and the shrieks that the vampires emitted left her dizzy and lightheaded.

Fíli wasn't faring any better: he looked exhausted, even if he had managed to fend off Ibun every time the vampire had tried to reach for him. He was moving with less and less fluency, and there was a telling stiffness in his back and shoulders. 

Kíli didn't want to be pessimistic, but things were looking great for team 'let's kill these bastards'. 

He needed to attract Khîm's entire attention, so that Tauriel might have had a chance to strike and finish him. 

But how.

Khîm flew closer and closer, then he lunged down again with his sword. Tauriel parred and threw herself aside. Kíli pushed himself to cover her, but too late, and couldn't protect himself as he should have.

The vampire's claws tore at the skin of his cheek, opening just a little gush, but deep enough that blood dripped from it.

Kíli's hand flew to the cut and pushed against it, half in surprise, half to stop the blood.

The moment the vampires smelt it, they stopped, barely moving their wings not to fall to the ground. They both looked at Kíli, enthralled, Ibun with a triumphant smile, Khîm with ferocious hunger.

Khîm sniffed the air like an animal that finally had found the prey. 

Kíli had an idea.

He stopped applying pressure, letting the blood flow. It itched where it leaked, but it made Khîm unable look away. 

Kíli straightened up. He saw the moment Fíli and Tauriel realized, him, and intuited, her, what his plan was. Fíli made to shout at him, most likely telling him not to dare going on with such a stupid plan. He couldn't say a word, though, as Ibun chose that very moment to fly down towards him, demanding his entire focus. Tauriel took a step in Kíli's direction, but didn't make it on time for anything else.

"Khîm!" Kíli shouted.

Not that he needed to: Khîm already had eyes only for him and attracting his entire attention required very little from Kíli.

He opened his arms wide, and let his sword fall to the ground.

"Come and get me, bastard!" he dared.

The vampire screamed in victory, and flew to the dwarven prince.

Kíli didn't protect himself. The beast's talons tore through the skin of arms and pushed him down. He fell on his back, the vampire on his chest, his fangs sinking into his shoulder.

The pain felt unbearable: Kíli fought against the scream that threatened to tear from his throat, the wave of nausea as the sharp fangs penetrated his flesh.

"Kíli!!" Fíli screamed.

"Look here, precious!" Ibun taunted, attacking him again.

"Kíli!" Tauriel screamed. She tried to take a couple of steps but fell again on the ground: she had broken a leg, too. She grabbed her bow and notched an arrow.

Kíli didn't give her the time to try and shoot: he extracted the dagger from under his shirt and stabbed the vampire in his chest, where he supposed the heart was.

A piercing shrieks of pain and sorrow rose. Kíli took it as a sign he had aimed well.

Ibun shrieked: he stopped fighting Fíli and turned to help his brother. Kíli pushed one hand inside the vampire's chest, still attached to him at his shoulder, and with a hard pull he took his heart out.

Khîm convulsed slightly, Ibun shrieked again. He ran to the dying vampire, but found Fíli on his way, the blond prince keeping him away, Tauriel close to him, bow ready.

Kíli pushed the dying vampire off of his body. With an enormous effort, he stood on his knees, grabbed his sword and beheaded the creature. 

Ibun covered his eyes and screamed, despaired, body convulsing in pain. Half the bats in the plain fell to the ground, dead on the spot.

Kíli collapsed on the ground, wheezing, blood pouting from his open wound.

"Kíli!!" screamed again Fíli.

"Kíli, no!" Tauriel echoed him.

Tauriel literally launched herself to his side. She tore his scarf from her head and pushed it on the wound, trying to apply pressure. She realized she must have started crying only because at a certain point she couldn't see Kíli's face clearly, anymore.

Ibun bared his fangs at her and the bleeding dwarf. He restrained himself from attacking the both of them, however, knowing fully well not to underestimate the only remaining obstacle on his way: Fíli.

The heir of Durin, with his two swords and renewed energy, the one that was infused into him by the desperation of knowing his brother was dying for the blood loss, a few meters behind him.

They were so close.

One was down.

But Kíli was dying, too.

Tauriel was crying.

He had to do something.

"Curse on you, Durin's son!!" Ibun screamed, looking at Kíli with hate: "You will pay for this!" 

He tried to bypass Fíli, but only managed to expose himself. Fíli cut his foot off. The vampire screamed in pain, and was echoed by the bats in the plain.

He hovered over Fíli, holding his wounded leg close, blood dripping to the floor. He looked at Fíli with a shocked expression, of hurt and betrayal, so deep that it took Fíli by surprise.

the prince stopped, swords mid air, and waited.

"My jewel" Ibun lamented. 

His red eyes twinkled and went back to a dark shade of grey.

Fíli swallowed. 

"Ibun" he said, calling him as if he could call him out of the darkness he lived in.

But there was no redeeming this creature.

The vampire closed his wings and landed. He used them to keep himself standing, and limped on his remaining foot.

"My prince" he said, voice soaked in sorrow.

"Ibun, let them go" Fíli begged.

He didn't even know why he bothered saying it. But he felt he needed to try. Ibun had already saved them once. Maybe he could appeal to his humanity, if he still had any. 

The vampire shook his head. Save for the wings that he needed to keep himself up, his appearance was slowly changing, until he resembled very much the dwarf Fíli had met at that inn... 

He couldn't see him as nothing but a monster, now, though.

"My prince, my only light. How could I? He has killed my brother. The only family I had left"

"Your brother attacked him, Ibun"

The vampire shook his head.

"Khîm was.. ruthless, but he wouldn't have killed him. He wanted the elf dead. Your brother was supposed to be my brother's companion" 

Ibun shook his head again and closed his eyes.

Fíli dared a glance back to Tauriel and Kíli. His brother was pale, and there was a pool of blood forming under his shoulder. Tauriel's fingers were soaked red, just like her clothes. 

"My jewel, I cannot let you go" Ibun repeated.

"And them?" Fíli asked again: "if I am to stay with you, let them go" he tried.

The vampire shook his head.

"They know the truth, they need to die"

"Why are you doing this? You've saved us, once. Why saving us to kill us now!" Fíli exclaimed.

The vampire shook his head.

"So wants my Lord. He promised us a companion each. Now I know he did so because he knew Khîm wouldn't survive. I need to turn you, my beauty. It must be two of us" Ibun explained.

Fíli seethed. 

Kíli was dying.

Ibun was long lost to his darkness.

He needed a plan.

He needed to get close enough to Ibun to kill him. He needed to be sure he had the vampire's full attention before moving from his spot, or Ibun would just bypass him and reach for Kíli.

And Tauriel.

Fíli dropped one sword to the ground, and pushed his hair to the side. He bent his neck and exposed a long stripe of white, creamy skin.

He brought his remaining sword to his neck, pushed the tip enough to tear a little cut open, ignoring the sting.

"Ibun, is there no way out for me? Must I become like you?"

Ibun's eyes followed the movement of the blade, bored into every drop of blood that appeared. 

"No" he answered with hoarse voice: "no, my sun, there isn't. You must be mine"

"Is that so...?" Fíli mused, just to keep the other engaged.

He pushed the sword back on the same path and drew more drops. Ibun licked his lips with a black tongue.

Fíli took a step closer to the vampire, then another.

"Do you want me, Ibun? Do you want to make me yours?"

"My jewel" came the deep voice of the vampire: "my sun, my precious Silmaril. 

"Do you want me, Ibun?" Fíli asked again.

"More than eternity, my precious gift" Ibun replied immediately.

Fíli walked again to him.

"Will you be good to me, Ibun? Will you make it good for me, just like last time?" 

Ibun walked the steps that still separated them one to the other. He reached out, and Fíli dropped his sword to the ground, inclining his head more, so that the vampire could have a perfect view of the blood that dripped down his collar.

"Oh, my star, my one, my neverending sunset" Ibun whispered, and placed his hands on Fíli's hips.

Fíli let the other pull him close to his chest, where he felt no heartbeat, just cold skin. He looked up into the vampire's eyes, slowly going back to red.

"Oooh, my precious" Ibun's mouth broke into a slow grin: "don't think I don't know what you're doing. I know what you hide under your clothes, how many daggers. I will not fall for a plot like the one your brother's has used with Khîm"

Fíli smiled, a mirroring smile, just as slow. Just as calm. Just as predatory. He placed his hands on Ibun's hips, and pressed himself completely against the vampire's body.

"I would never" he whispered, so close to Ibun's face he could smell the rotten blood on the other's breath.

"I've got something else in mind" he said.

And he pushed them to their left, beyond the edge of the cliff.

Tauriel screamed.

Xxxx

"This was... A good plan" Ibun said.

Fíli heard it only because the vampire's mouth was very, very close to his ear, after he had bitten him just under it. 

They were falling.

Ibun's wings were trashed, torn apart by deep gashes. More than that, Fíli hadn't managed to achieve. 

They were going to die.

"My jewel, you truly are magnificent" Ibun said.

Then the fall ended.

Pain.

Xxxx

Tauriel screamed so hard that, even so far away, Legolas heard. 

Lord Elrond and his army had arrived, and the dwarves and the elves were defeating together the orcs. Legolas had sprinted towards Dol Guldur, to help Tauriel and the dwarven princes. 

He was close already, when he heard her.

Tauriel was close, up there, and in pain.

Then his eyes took in the form that was precipitating down the cliff.

He arrived in time to see two bodies touch the ground.

Xxxx

Thorin stood over Azog's carcass, this time sure he would never see the pale orc again. 

He turned and saw Dwalin, always close to him. He raised Orcrist, no longer ashamed at having an elf blade with him, and very glad the prince had given it back. 

He raised a warcry, answered and echoed by all the members of the company and many of the dwarves in Dain's army.

He saw the hobbit walking towards them, one arm cradled to his chest, probably broken, the other still holding Sting in a firm grip. He had a lopsided smile on his face that told Thorin there still were beautiful things in life.

The king scooped Master Baggins close to his chest, careful not to hurt his injured arm, and pressed a hard kiss against his lips. 

Biblo Baggins startled at first, then pushed his fingers in Thorin's hair and kissed back just as fiercely. 

The dwarves of the company cheered again, and made gestures to each other that meant, you own me money, no, you own money to me.

Thorin put the hobbit down, conscious he must have been smiling just as idiotically as his adorable burglar was doing. He held him close, nonetheless, and Bilbo hid his face in Thorin's coat.

Thorin looked around. Only Fíli and Kíli were missing. 

"My nephews!" he exclaimed, calling through the friendly, happy and exhausted faces. A cold shiver ran through him, staining the moment, stabbing his heart with fear.

"Where are my nephews?" he asked.

Heads turned and inquired. Eyes looked around. Voices called. Nobody had seemed Fíli and Kíli, it appeared.

"Thorin Oakenshield!" called the voice of the prince elf, Legolas.

Thorin looked in his direction. The prince was riding a white horse, and had a tense expression.

"Prince Legolas, do you know of my nephews?" he asked, in tone of urgency.

"Come with me, Thorin, quick. They're dying"

Xxxx

Thorin ran.


	22. In grey and black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are they dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shifting POV: Fíli - Kíli - Thorin - Kíli - Fíli

Pain.

Pain, darkness, nothing to see.

If only he could have it the same way for feeling as well, it wouldn’t be too bad.

The pain was the worst he had had experienced. Worse than that time he almost chopped his own hand off, at the forge. Worse than when he cut his leg open, diving from a cliff in the sea and not managing to stay far enough from the rocks under.

Worse than when he got pneumonia and it wouldn’t leave him be.

Pain. Pure, simple pain. And darkness.

Xxxx

Voices told him that feeling pain was good. Better than the alternative.

‘What’s the alternative?’ he asked.

Nobody answered.

Then a whisper to his ear, or brain, or soul.

‘Dead’ it said.

‘Damnation’ it added, as an afterthought.

The pain ebbed away, and he started feeling as if he was drowning in nothingness.

Xxxx

For days, Thorin did not leave the tent where his nephews where fighting for their lives. Doctors and healers of all the races got in and out, trying to help, to bring whatever improvement they could: dwarves, elves, men, even the hobbit and their only wizard.

Kíli had lost too much blood, and something dark and malicious had spread into his body, flowing in his veins instead of the blood he had lost. Healing his wounds was becoming more and more a matter of fighting off evil magic than an act of medicine. Gandalf, as well as two elven lords, were trying to purify him from the shadows that fought to claim the young prince.

Fíli, lying on a second cot at his brother’s side, was infected with the same substance, but his body was reacting better to the evil magic. But in his case, the injuries he had sustained from falling from a cliff -throwing himself, Thorin’s mind reminded him, were just too much. His body seemed more able to shake off the darkness than Kíli’s, but it didn’t look like it was healing from anything else.

“Thorin” came a sweet whisper to the king’s ear.

He was lying on the floor, between his nephews, alternating between resting his head on one and the other’s cot. Bilbo Baggins found him easily, and quietly made his way to him.

The hobbit caressed Fíli’s hair. The prince looked terribly pale and still. He had stopped breathing about one hour prior, and the elves had shaken their heads, with sorrowful expression and resignation.

There wasn’t anything else they could do for him, they told Thorin.

The king hadn’t answered. Hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t shed a tear. He had already cried all the tears he had in his body. Shouted all the words he could think of. Now he was left empty, and watched Fíli, and his nephew and heir slowly died.

Fíli had stopped breathing one hour ago, and Thorin couldn’t bring himself to look away. He still held Kíli’s hand in his own, not much relieved at feeling it burning. The fever that told him his younger nephew was still alive, also reminded him that he was very close to lose him, too.

“Thorin” the hobbit repeated.

Thorin exhaled briefly.

The hobbit sat beside him, draping his smaller body against Thorin’s, and rested his forehead on the king’s shoulder.

He didn’t say anything else.

Thorin closed his eyes, and let fall tears he didn’t know he could still cry.

Xxxx

There was a voice.

Everything was pitch black, but there was a voice. Kíli jerked right and left, trying to see, to squeeze through the darkness and see what the thing talking was. He moved and shifted, trying to keep the source of the voice in front of him.

“Prince,” the voice said: “prince, you should die. You should give in”

It moved and moved and moved, and Kíli spun with it, trying to follow it.

“You’re a coward!” it shouted.

Kíli didn't ask why.

"You're a coward, you're dirty, you're a cheat!"

The voice sounded like it came from something that could hurt him. He was afraid.

"You're a dirty liar, and you're not worthy the love of your family!"

Something stroke Kíli in his chest. He bent over, toppled over and tried to hurry back on his feet. 

"You are evil! Darkness is in your heart! You don't deserve life!"

Something whipped him backwards and sent him sprawled to the ground. It hurt. He couldn't see what the ground was made of, but it hurt. 

"You're a dirty cheater, you tell them you love them, but you're evil and corrupted!" 

Something stabbed him right in the middle of his chest.

He screamed and tried to grasp with his fingers whatever it was stabbing him, but couldn't find anything.

"You're dark, you're evil... You belong to me!"

'Khîm' he thought.

Fear shot through him, cold as ice. It made the pain burn harder. He thrashed against the force that kept him down.

"You're mine!"

"I'm not!" he shouted back.

His voice was lost in the screams of the wind, the rumble of thunders, the rain that fell heavy and mercilessly all over him.

"I'm not!" he shouted again.

Something stabbed him too close to his heart. He screamed and flung his head backwards for the pain.

He couldn't think. He was afraid. He was going to die.

"You're mine!" the same voice screamed.

Tears leaked from Kíli's closed eyes.

He was afraid. He was in pain. He wanted this to end.

"You're just a scam, little liar! You make them think you are strong and pure, but you're just a greedy haven of darkness, just like me!"

"Fuck you!" he screamed again, now crying openly.

"Fuck you, fuck you! I'm not yours!" 

"Yes!" boomed the same voice and a thunder cracked and rippled through the air. The pain intensified, pressure applied to his wounds.

"You are mine, and you will never be a creature of the light! You belong to me! Your soul is mine!"

"Fuck you!" he screamed again.

The voice roared, and he felt a third stabbing right through his heart.

"Fíli" he called through tears.

"Fíli!" he cried louder.

"He will not save you! You belong to me! Give in! Embrace darkness!"

"Fuck you! Fíli! Fíli! Fíli!!" Kíli shouted, until everything disappeared.

Xxxx

Fíli was swimming in nothingness once again. Then, abruptly as it had started, a formed appeared.

Curious, he tried swimming in its direction.

The dark shape spread wings, and he saw Ibun, curled up with knees close to his chest, smiling pleasantly at him. He looked smaller than he had been during their first meeting, but had fine traits, not like the warped creature he had been in his last hour.

"My prince" he greeted Fíli, when he stopped and floated close to him.

"Hi, Ibun" he said.

"My beautiful jewel. I'm sorry to see you here"

Fíli frowned. 

"Why?" he asked.

The other shook his head with a sad smile.

"If you are here, then you are dead" he explained.

"Oh" was all that Fíli said.

The vampire smiled. It didn't expose the sharp fangs he had had before. Fíli wondered if he still was a vampire, or had reverted to whatever he had been before the transformation.

"But I am glad to see you here" he said again.

Fíli bent his head slightly, silently asking for more explanation.

"If you are here, then it means I have been redeemed. I didn't think it possible, but, someone must have listened to my prayer"

Fíli didn't understand.

"I thought you said you belonged to the darkness" he said: "why should you be redeemed?"

Ibun smiled more, warm and happy.

"I haven't prayed the Valar in a long time, but, when we were falling, I asked them to take my life, and save yours" he explained.

"Oh" Fíli said.

He looked around, at the grey nothingness that was all he could see.

They floated into it, alone.

"But I'm dead" he said, frowning: "why redeeming you for a nice thought, and not saving me?" he asked.

Ibun shook his shoulders.

"Did you want to be saved?" the ex-vampire asked.

Fíli shook his head.

"No. I'm happy if you have now found peace. I wanted to help you. But I wanted to save Kíli more"

Ibun nods.

"I understand" he said.

Fíli pursed his lips, impatient.

"Yes, but, am I dead then? How do I know if Kíli is safe?" he asked.

The other smiled ruefully and shook his head.

"That, my beautiful prince, I cannot tell you. I don't know" he answered.

Fíli believed him, but didn't like the idea of being stuck here, not knowing. He floated around their spot for a while, then swum back to Ibun.

"What is going to happen to us, now?" he asked.

Ibun shook his shoulders.

"You have a soul, a pure, bright one. Untarnished. You will be led to brighter places" he assumed.

Fíli cocked his head.

"And you?" he asked.

Ibun looked surprised.

"Me? Well, I don't even have a soul, anymore. I will probably fade away and just disappear"

Fíli frowned.

"But.. aren't we already dead? Isn't this your soul?" he asked, confused.

Ibun chuckled warmly.

"My beautiful, beautiful prince, no. We are dying. We aren't completely dead, yet" 

"Oh" Fíli said, watching at his hands.

Ibun was, in fact, slightly disappearing, while Fíli's body was progressively turning brighter. 

"Am I going to become a torch?" he asked himself, aloud.

Ibun laughed.

"A beautiful beacon of light, yes. I hope I can see that before vanishing... But I ought to hope for you to wake up, I suppose, instead"

Fíli looked up at him abruptly, lowering his hands to his hips.

"What do you mean?"

Ibun's wings faded slowly. Both him and Fíli noticed, and turned to watch them disappear. When their eyes met again, Ibun looked sad and resigned, but also relieved.

"You can wake up. You can go back, make sure your brother is safe. You just have to wake up" he explained.

"I don't know how" Fíli said.

Ibun shook his head. He started fading away.

"My jewel, find a way. Build it, if you don't find it"

And with that, Fíli was left alone.

Xxxx

".. were any other possibilities, you know we would have tried them. I understand your pain, Thorin Oakenshield, but there is nothing else that can be done"

A voice was talking in a polite, sympathetic tone, not too far from him.

"..there must be something you can attempt" another voice replied.

'Thorin' Fíli thought: 'uncle Thorin'

"I understand I will achieve nothing from shouting at you. I apologize for doing so, before. Surely you realize how this is affecting me. Please, I... I beg you. There must be something that you can do"

A pause. Shocked silence, but also respectful, and full of sorrow. 

"Thorin, on everything that means something to me, I swear to you. I don't know what else to try" 

"Lord Elrond" another voice piped in.

Gandalf's.

"Perhaps we can try a last attempt, if only to help Thorin find peace"

Another pause.

"Will it help you, Thorin Oakenshield? Or would it just hurt you more?" Lord Elrond asked.

"Please. It might be different. This time... The outcome might be different" Thorin begged, in the most broken voice Fíli had ever heard from him.

Something cool touched him, and he startled. At least he thought he did. He realized that what Lord Elrond was touching was his body, Fíli's, and that the cool, light pressure Fíli felt on his forehead came from the fingers of the elven king.

"Prince Fíli..." the elf king started, and stopped.

"What? Why did you stop?" 

"Thorin..."

"No, Bilbo, he stopped, why did you stop? Lord Elrond, why did you stop?"

"...it... It cannot be! Gandalf! Come here!"

More cool fingers touched Fíli's forehead. He felt slowly pulled back into his body, and was assaulted by an incredible wave of pain. He fought it, trying not to pass out.

"Fíli" Gandalf's voice called at his ear.

"Thorin, come here. Hold his hand, here... Not too much, mind his broken bones. Yes, like this. Hold his hand and call him. Just like Gandalf has just done"

Something harder and warmer touched his hand. A strong grasp, struggling to be gentle. 

Thorin.

Fíli felt the irrational urge to cry.

"F.. Fíli" his uncle stammered: "Fíli, my dear nephew, can you hear me?"

'Yes!' he wanted to shout, but it was too difficult. His mouth wouldn't move, his tongue heavy, his eyes not willing to open. He wanted to squeeze back that hand, open his eyes, look at Thorin..

"Fíli, please" came Thorin's voice, closer to his ear now.

"Fíli, Kíli is dying. Please, do not leave me as well. Help me bring him back"

Fíli's body gave an almost imperceptible shake, and his eyes slid open.

He saw Thorin's face smeared with tears, his smile, tired and full of relief, exhausted with the fear and pain of not wanting to accept losing someone dear.

"Fíli" he whispered, mouthing it into Fíli's hand, and crying shamelessly in front of everybody.

From Fíli's head, Gandalf and Lord Elrond looked in awe at the young prince, who had been so close to dead only minutes before, and now lied awake.

"What a warrior you are, Fíli Durin" the elf king whispered.


	23. Love your light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli wakes, and has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near.  
> Fíli x Kíli, Tauriel watches. ...not like that. (Ok fine, maybe)(Legolas watches too)  
> Bagginshield, super slight

Everything hurt.  


Fíli opened his eyes again. He had woken up, tried to stand to a sitting position, and fainted because of the pain.

He was once again awake: not much time must have passed since his previous attempt.

He came back to the fretting expression of his uncle, who stood by his side, hands clutched over Fíli’s. He tried again to move, to push up onto an elbow, if not directly to sit, but was stopped by Thorin and an elf - Lord Elrond, he recognized.

“You must not, Fíli Durin” the elven king said, in a voice that didn’t admit reply.

Fíli didn’t try any, and let the hands of his uncle push him back into the pillows. He didn’t want to faint again, and he was in enough pain, already. His legs hurt horribly: they must have been broken in more than one place. But he had been able to crawl up into a sitting position, so his back couldn’t be broken as well. A small relief, he thought.

The flesh between his neck and shoulder felt tender and stung, and he remembered Ibun biting him, while they were falling. He brought one hand up to the scar left by the fangs and felt it with the tips of his fingers.

Ibun had spoken to him, in that strange place he had seen him, between death and life. Had it been their souls, meeting and talking?

Fíli’s eyes met Thorin’s.

His uncle looked exhausted. His eyes were red-rimmed and had bags under them, heavy shadows that spoke loudly of no rest for a long time. Beside him stood the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, with eyes just as tired, relief as clearly written on his face.

Behind them there were some members of the company, although most of them were missing. Dwalin and Óin were there, and Ori and Dori. Fíli wondered what had happened to those missing.

He turned his head slightly on his other side, where Lord Elrond stood between his bed and Kíli’s. the elf Lord had a carefully blank expression, but not unkind or cold. Fíli could detect traces of worry and hard work on his face, and knew without a doubt that he owned his life to him.

Behind him, he saw Kíli.

His brother was lying in bed, eyes closed and shivering, the way Fíli knew it was induced by high fever. He was pale, his lips chapped and almost blue. His bare shoulders peeked from under the blanket: Fíli could see the outline of the scar on his neck, and the bruising under it.

He raised the one hand that Thorin wasn’t holding, and grasped the wrist of the elf king.

“My brother, Lord Elrond… what is wrong with him?”

Nobody answered, nobody uttered a word, but almost every occupants in the tent that Fíli could see either looked at one another, or fidgeted uncomfortably where they stood.

He was used to this, people looking around and fidgeting, when e woke up with injuries and asking after Kíli. It was the first time, however, that he didn’t see a single face smiling around him. It definitely gave him the idea of how bad things were.

He rested his eyes on the elf king, who sighed.

Not a good sign.

“You have been closer to death than your brother, prince Fíli” Lord Elrond said, clearly picking his words.

Fíli kept looking at him, silently demanding more explanations. The elf king sighed again, and move to Kíli’s bedside. He placed the palm of his hand on Kíli’s forehead. Kíli whimpered.

“Your brother is not fighting death” said another voice.

Lord Elrond closed his eyes and opened again with a vague trace of irritation.

King Thranduil stepped closer to the beds. He had a blank expression, but appeared to be watching his words far less than lord Elrond. In any other circumstance, Fíli would have probably not appreciated, but, in his current situation, he did.

“The wound you see is closed” King Thranduil went on, vaguely gesturing to Kíli’s bite mark.

“However, the venom has already spread. It is no longer a threat for the body, but for the soul. It must have found fertile soil to grow, or it wouldn’t have been able to latch and threaten his soul. Probably, a leftover of the darkness carried in the body by the black arrow has helped this venom seep through”

The king stopped and shook his head. A single strand of silken, perfect blond hair fell on his chest.

“A body can survive being tainted by darkness once. Twice… it is extremely uncommon”

“It doesn’t mean it is impossible” said a voice, angrily interrupting the elf king.

Thranduil rolled his eyes. He turned, revealing to Fíli Tauriel: she was sitting on a chair very close to Kíli’s bed. Her entire left leg was bandaged, and she held a crutch in her hands.

She looked up at her king with fire in her eyes. Above her, behind her chair, stood Legolas.

“If one of them managed a miraculous recovery, why can’t the other?” she reasoned.

Legolas brought his hands on her shoulders, to sooth her, and murmured something that Fíli didn’t hear.

Thranduil looked like he was positively restraining himself from backhanding his captain.

She looked hopeful, the way one realizes one has to be, or else they would lose their sanity. Fíli had no doubt that the only one sharing her hope was Thorin, and probably not for a far different reason.

“Tauriel” Lord Elrond started, patient, if tired, interrupting whatever King Thranduil had been about to say: “You see yourself that there is no way”

“You said the same for Fíli” she stubbornly replied.

She didn’t manage to stand up only because Legolas kept pushing her shoulders down.

“My lords” Thorin intervened.

Fíli was almost shocked, hearing the respectful, broken tone come from his usually so proud uncle. He wasn’t sure what to think of it, except that it surely turned the entire situation an even darker shade.

“Your captain has a point. You assumed Fíli was lost, too, and yet here he is. Not standing, but he lives”

Thorin stopped, swallowed, clutched harder Fíli’s hands. At his side, Bilbo placed a supportive hand on his back.

“Let me ask again. Is there anything that you can do? As you said, Kíli’s current predicament has nothing to do with the body. Dwarven medicine cannot heal the soul, nor can it do anything against the darkness that it is threatening my nephew. Only you can help him”

Thorin’s honest, raw emotions unsettled Fíli, but the elven kings both shook their head, one more patiently than the other.

“We have already explained, Thorin, we have done all that was in our power to help him. Now it is only up to him, he has to escape his own darkness, the one within him”

“There is no darkness inside him!” Tauriel protested loudly, stomping with the crutch on the floor.

“If there weren’t, he would not be as affected as he is, now!” exclaimed King Thranduil, silencing her with a glare.

“This isn’t his fault, this isn’t his darkness! This comes from what has been left by that orc arrow, I am sure!” she insisted, with tears in her eyes that she ignored.

“My lord, I believe Tauriel is right” Gandalf said, calm and diplomatic.

“It isn’t unheard. King Thranduil, you have said yourself that the venom of the bite has used the darkness left by the black arrow as a door to enter his soul. If a cleansing ritual has been performed, by someone not highly trained to perform this kind of magic, then it is possible that it has failed to clean out entirely the darkness of the orc arrow. It has healed the body, but some of the darkness has remained, a stain on young Kíli’s soul”

“All makes perfectly sense, and yet, Mithrandil, there is nothing else that we can do” King Thranduil said with a glare: “had we been involved with the ritual the first time, we could have made sure no stain were left behind, and now the venom would have had less chance to take roots. This, now, is now black arrow we are dealing with. This, this is something nobody but he himself can save him from”

Silence followed the king’s honest, if almost cruel, words. Thorin visibly bit his tongue, the hobbit sneaking a hand down his arm. Fíli appreciated the effort: now was not a good time to insult the elf king’s mother and kin.

Lord Elrond, more than willing to add something but not knowing what, merely looked down.

In her chair, Tauriel seethed, not noticing the tears that had started falling down her cheeks.

Fíli had a crazy idea, and thought, what the fuck, worst case scenario it will not work.

He set his jaw, thinking. He needed to be sure, as sure as he could be, at least, with a plan so crazy. But, Ibun had saved his life, once, both their lives. And he had tried to shield Fíli, before they splattered onto the ground, even after Fíli had trashed his wings.

Could that be enough? Could he trust the old, ruined soul?

“Uncle” Fíli called, drawing all eyes to himself.

“I think the elf kings have done all they could. They have explained quite well, there is nothing else they can help us with”

Fíli ignored the aforementioned elves and looked directly into his uncle’s eyes. Thorin, frozen on the spot, was both angry and astonished at his nephew’s words. He was also visibly reasoning. He knew Fíli, and he knew that Kíli was more than everything for him. That he dismissed Thorin’s request for help for Kíli…

Thorin must have seen something in Fíli’s eyes, something that told him he could trust him with whatever crazy plan he had just come up with. Only that realization kept him from exploding.

“Please uncle” Fíli insisted.

He steeled himself against the pain and pushed up onto an elbow. The world spun, but he soldiered through the pain.

“I wish to be left alone with my brother”

Thorin held his gaze, once again. He tried to read Fíli’s plan without asking what it was. He didn’t look like he had found an answer, but he must have decided he trusted Fíli enough.

“Very well” Thorin said.

Close to them, Bilbo looked frantically between uncle and nephew, searching answers as well, but didn’t utter a word.

Fíli turned to the rest of the occupants of the tent.

“Please” he repeated: “I wish to be left alone with Kíli”

Everyone looked at him like they all suspected he had a plan, but nobody had a vague idea what it could be.

“Very well” said Gandalf, after what felt like an eternity.

The wizard’s eyes embraced the room, sending a silent message to everyone he met. Lord Elrond nodded, and left with him. King Thranduil hesitated a second, then he followed them out, without a word.

Thorin turned to dismiss the dwarves gathered.

“Not Dwalin” Fíli hastily amended.

Legolas and Tauriel, who had been about to leave, stopped at the edge of the tent. They met Fíli’s eyes and fixed him with a stern look.

Dwalin, caught between the elves and Fíli and Thorin, turned towards his king and prince.

“Whatever you have in mind, I wish to help” Tauriel said, limping out of Legolas’ hands.

“You own me that, after the stunt you’ve pulled last time I’ve left you play hero”

Fíli had to admit she was right, and nodded.

Dwalin hesitated, looking straight into Fíli's eyes for a couple of long moments, then he nodded and left, pushing out the other dwarves.

Thorin stood still, eyes locked in Fíli's. He seemed to debate with himself, questioning his previous decision, second guessing it, probably. Then Bilbo sneaked his hand in his, startling Thorin into breaking eyes contact. The king bent to him and kissed his forehead.

"Be careful" he turned to whisper to Fíli, ruffling his hair, and walked out.

Bilbo followed him, hesitating and lingering for one last moment at the entrance of the tent. He casted a worried glance back to Fíli, then left.

Tauriel had limped back inside. He was now standing by Kíli's bed, with Legolas still hovering by the door, looking unsure.

"Prince Legolas," Fíli called him, beckoning him close with the arm he wasn't using to keep himself up.

"Please, help me to my brother's bed"

Legolas' clear eyebrows shot up so high they all but disappeared in his hair. 

"If you think you're getting up more than you are already, you are delusional" he said, in an unequivocal don't-contradict-me tone.

Fíli pursed his lips grimacing.

"No you're right. I mean, it was my plan, but I'll probably faint again"

"Can't Legolas Just Push your bed closer? Then you would only have to bend, more or less like you're doing now" Tauriel suggested.

She was obviously a genius with tactics, Fíli could see it. He turned to Legolas, forwarding to him the silent question. The prince just shrugged, agreeing.

"Of course"

"Then, please" Fíli said, slowly lying down once again, to rest.

Legolas rolled his eyes so quickly Fíli wondered if he hadn't dreamt it, then he pushed Fíli's cot close to Kíli's, so close they were basically attached. 

Fíli breathed through his nose, in preparation, then hoisted himself up again, up on his elbow.

"Fíli" Tauriel called, her eyes demanding: "what's the plan?"

"There is no real plan. Only a foolish hope" Fíli admitted.

"Then let's hear this foolish hope" Tauriel insisted.

Fíli breathed again, steeling himself in anticipation.

"Fíli" Tauriel insisted.

"Yes, I know. I'm about to do something stupid, ok? It will probably not even work" he replied, nervous.

Tauriel frowned.

From Fíli's side, mirroring Tauriel's position, Legolas scoffed.

"I heard last time a stupid plan of yours consisted in stepping down a cliff. Will this one be that level of stupid, or worse?" he asked.

Fíli wasn't sure he appreciated the sarcasm, but went for an honest reply nonetheless.

"Look, this time I won't die if it doesn't work, ok?"

"Last time, you would have died anyway" Tauriel replied.

"I'm just going to call him back" Fíli rushed out.

Legolas snorted, incredulous.

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!" he exclaimed.

Tauriel, on the other hand, look very seriously at Fíli.

"It might work" she said, after a while.

"What? How?" Legolas asked, baffled.

"Last time, I called Kíli back, when he was poisoned by the orc arrow" she started explaining.

"I banked on the hope that he might love me as I loved him. And it worked, the ritual succeeded almost entirely"

Legolas' jaw must hurt, Fíli thought, with how much he was gaping.

"You what him, now!" he exclaimed.

"But he didn't love me enough, otherwise the ritual would have worked much better. It would have cleaned up everything" Tauriel went on.

"What!" Legolas' repeated again, this time slightly angry.

"I thought it was because you weren't highly trained in performing the ritual, as Gandalf said" Fíli replied.

She shook her head.

"Love bypasses that problem. Had he loved me enough, I would have saved him. But it must have been too soon .. I should have expected it"

Fíli didn't say that, maybe, it wasn't that it had been too soon, but that Kíli would never love her that much. Ever.

It was obvious Kíli felt something for her... Just not deep enough.

She smirked at him, and Fíli worried that she might have been able to hear his thoughts. 

"However," she started: "I'm sure he loves you more than enough, already"

Fíli didn't say a word, just held her gaze. She was smiling, a bit predatory, but not unkind. As if she was absolutely ok with the being brothers and in love with each other, more than they could be with anyone else.

Legolas' muttered something in his language and scoffed.

"Whatever. As long as you don't make me watch the three of you screw in front of me. Let's get on with this plan"

Tauriel chuckled, Fíli went bright red on his cheeks, and tried stammering something, anything really, but stopped when Legolas raised one single, elegant hand, as if to say, spare me please.

"Anyway, I thought I would just start with a kiss" Fíli explained.

Tauriel made a prolonged 'mmm' sound, and pursed her lips, eyes slightly unfocused in front of her.

Fíli lifted an eyebrow, silently asking what was her opinion about it.

Legolas scoffed again and smirked.

"She isn't thinking what if it doesn't work. She's just thinking she'll like to watch" 

"Legolas!"

"What, it's true!"

"I just" Fíli interrupted them, before their bickering escalated.

"I will just feel very stupid, if it doesn't"

The raw honesty attracted all their attention, effectively silencing them.

Tauriel placed a hand on his legs, which he barely felt, given the conditions they were in. She smiled, reassuringly.

"It will. Your love is real" she promised.

Fíli swallowed.

At his left, Legolas nodded, too, and beckoned him with his chin to get on with it.

Fíli drew a long breath and hunched down to his brother's ear.

"Kíli" he called, a whisper.

"Kíli, come back to me" he repeated.

He started thinking all the 'what if' his kind could come up with. What if Kíli was lost to the dark. What if Khîm's poison had already tainted him and turned him into a monster. What if he was just slowly, inevitably dying.

He moved to Kíli's mouth and placed a chaste kiss on his chapped lips. He peppered little kissed and alternated it with whispers of Kíli's name, and prayers.

A strong arm sneaked around his chest, a hand into his hair, and the mouth he was kissing suddenly opened under his. 

Fíli whimpered, as he felt the tongue proving his mouth, and rushed to deepen the kiss, copying what Kíli was already doing.

Somewhere at their right Tauriel squealed in happiness and delight, and Fíli thought he heard Legolas muttering something, but he was too busy to care.

He had barely heard, anyway: he was too focused on the hands that pushed him backwards, until he was lying again, on the solid weight that was pressing into him, hands still clutching his hair and side.

That mouth was still kissing him, and breathing became more and more difficult, as a hard body was aligned with Fíli's own.

Tauriel squealed again, and this time Fíli distinguished Legolas saying that he was going to go get Thorin.

Kíli stopped kissing him and chuckled, holding his face between his hands. He was smiling, teary eyes and the biggest smile Fíli had ever seen on his face. His lips were bruised and red, and he was smiling.

"My brother" Kíli murmured: "my light of the lights, my saviour" he whispered, as in a prayer.

Fíli pushed up and kissed him more.

Behind them, Tauriel was trying to dry her cheeks and only managed to spread her tears more.

Xxxx

Thorin rushed out, followed by Bilbo and the elven Lords.

They couldn't believe their eyes: they had left Fíli awaken, and Kíli feverish, looking close to death. 

Now they found Fíli on his back, asleep, with Kíli snuggled up close to him. The younger prince was lying very close to his brother, pressed into his side, and caressed gently his chest, the long strands of his blond hair, his beard.

Tauriel sat on the bottom of the bed between their feet, hands occasionally undertaking circular patterns on both their legs.

The dwarves of the company rushed in, every single one of them, some more bruised than other, but all there.

"Kíli" Thorin whispered, eyes wide, not willing to believe what he was seeing.

Kíli smiled.

"He passed out" he said, hinting to Fíli.

"Can you believe it? This idiot saves me, and passes out right after!" he exclaimed.

The dwarves bursted into laughter. Thorin did, too, and Kíli ignored the way his uncle's face was stricken by tears, when he bent and crushed him into a bear hug.


	24. The proverbial end is as proverbially complicated as it can be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of battles are, per definition, a mess. Add a coronation to that, plus two mischievous nephews, and poor Thorin is in for a handful. 
> 
> Well, at least he's alive, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli/Fíli/Tauriel, in whatever order you prefer, and Thorin/Bilbo + Some other pairings mentioned you might want to tell me your opinion about.
> 
> This is the end, my friends, thank you for traveling with me. I'm a free elf! No sorry, wrong fandom. Anyway.

The aftermath of a battle is a complicated matter.

First of all, it follows bloodshed, of whichever proportions, though it tends to be more likely big than small. This means that, whatever is the side you find yourself after the battle, you always end up with dead and wounded among yours.

If you lose, well.

But even if you win, there are lots of things to do.

You have to tend to the wounded first, immediately after you have secured yourself victory. You wouldn’t go far losing more and more soldiers because of untreated wounds, not to mention the fact that it wouldn’t make you look nice in the eyes of the uninjured ones.

So you have to tend to the wounded. This means you have to get them medical assistance. This means that, whatever camp you have set up before the actual fight, you have to restructure it as quickly as possible, in order to better cope with the extended time you have to spend where you are. You have to reshuffle assets around with the least movement possible, because the more you jostle them, the more you will find out the wounded are more than you have originally expected.

Once the camp has been suitably adapted to a prolonged permanence, you have to think of the medical supplies your medical personas will need. You have to think about any kind of supplies: medicines, water, food, firewood, warm clothes, blankets. You also shouldn’t forget to give the uninjured something to do while they wait for the others to get back to a healthy enough state that you can all ride, or walk, back home. Which means that you have to form teams to provide the aforementioned, needed supplies, but also provide your people something to celebrate win.

After all, winning a battle always, unfortunately, means losing some assets, and some of those assets are people who have fought for you, and died for you. Which translates into the obvious consequence of many cases of soldiers who made it, but have lost a brother, father, cousin, friend, whatever. So you have to think about that, too: they have to be allowed to mourn, but they have to be distracted enough so that their mourning doesn’t cloud their judgment, doesn’t push them to question their decision to fight for you, to follow you.

You have to find wine, beer, ale, whatever it is that your people like, and you have to find it in tons. Of course, you should also make sure that your drunken soldiers won’t kill each other while you wait that the wounded heal; you would be surprised to know how troublemakers sprout out of even the meekest lamb, when you give them access to enough spirits. So: allow some celebrations, but with measure. Make sure they aren’t so drunk they’ll accidentally kill after winning your fights, and make equally sure thy won’t get into drunken fights.

Once you have made sure the wounded won’t die on you, or at least not too many of them (some is the unfortunate inevitable occurrence of war, and isn’t war a terrible occurrence exactly for this reason?), and you have made sure the rest of your healthy soldiers are also taken care of, you have to think of the fallen. You must send someone to collect bodies, work through recognizing the corpses, have some scribe draft you a list of who has fallen, so that you can properly communicate to their families. Wouldn’t want to risk opening a feud back home, would you? You need to make sure your people know that you give a fuck about people dear to them dying, and dying for your cause.

Once you know whom you’ve lost, you have to bury them. This means you have to have a religious figure with you, who can perform a ritual once the corpses have started burning, or have been buried, whatever it is that you do. You have to male sure that the souls of those who died for you will not work against you, from wherever they are now.

Ghosts are terribly stubborn, once they’re dead set on haunting you.

Oh, the pun.

Xxxx

Thorin had been a prince all his life, heir of his father and grandfather. He had ruled as a king even without a crown and an official nomination for so long, and this wasn’t the first battle whose aftermath he had to wrestle. He was lucky, not having sustained major injuries or loss like last time, Azalnubizar a terrible memory, still fresh enough to scare him.

He had been lucky: few of his had died. He couldn’t even begin to think how lucky he had been with what had happened to those two reckless hotheads of his nephews – and really, Kíli, he might have expected the possibility he would pull such a terrible move, but Fíli?

He had been scared out of his own mind, his own, freshly regained right mind, and he had shed all the heavy layers of pride and knelt in front of elves kings, asking their helps. He had knelt in front of king Thranduil, the bastard, and begged him to save his nephews.

It stung, to think about it, but, well. The bastard had helped.

His nephews had survived.

He kissed Bilbo Baggins’ curly hair, from where it spilled on his shoulder. The hobbit was currently sitting very close to Thorin, at the royal table where Thorin was supposed to take royal decisions about reconstructing the front doors of Erebor and planning what to do with the many dwarves that had already set off and were marching towards the kingdom under the mountain. He wasn’t supposed to cuddle his hobbit, and foolishly thinking if he could make him some sort of royal consort, traditions be damned.

The aforementioned hobbit chuckled against the shoulder of Thorin’s thick, embroidered jacket, and pointed at a spot on the map.

“You know, that could make a fantastic vegetable garden. You could cultivate it and you would never have to buy vegetables from anywhere. I know you dwarves don’t eat many of them, but you like having them around”

Thorin laughed at the idea.

Then he looked at that spot, and considered whether traditions were, after all, meant to be broken.

“No dwarf would tend to it. Nobody would want to leave the mountain that often”

Bilbo chuckled, still curled on Thorin’s shoulder, face to the map.

“Oh, your majesty, I wouldn’t bet too much on that, if I were you”

Xxxx

Thorin was crowned king, in what became probably the most interesting ceremony that had ever taken place in the history of dwarven coronations.

First of all, it was huge: it took place in front of the broken gates of Erebor, and not only dwarves attended it, but also a crowd of gathered men and elves. There was also one hobbit, lone representant of his species, and a wizard, who was called to perform the ritual, right after he was done pronouncing the last words of the one for the fallen.

The second thing is that the traditional steps were followed to a fault, with Gandalf a bit unnerved by Thorin’s obsession to just make this perfect. The king hadn’t, however, thought this through the way he should have.

As already well established, Fíli was crowned first heir to the line of Durin.

But, the tradition dictated that also a second heir, one that was supposed to replace Fíli, should also be indicated. Traditionally, given the scarce natality rate among dwarves, this step left open the opportunity to the first heir to have children, and there was a formula that Fíli should have pronounced, whose condensed meaning basically was, in case I have a child, they will be my heir.

But, even before the ceremony had started, Fíli had talked to Kíli, and they knew there was no chance for children in their future, unless one of them grew a womb. Kíli surely didn’t want to become Fíli’s heir either, since he pointed out that, should anything happen to Fíli, it was most likely to happen to himself as well.

So, when Gandalf turned to Fíli to ask him the traditional question, very stern and serious in his face and with the weight of Thorin’s expectations and glare on his back, Fíli replied that his heir was going to be Dain’s eldest son, a baby barely out of his second year of age.

Silence had followed.

Dain himself had looked so surprised he had almost fallen on his big, bulky, armed butt on the floor. He didn’t only because of his very quick, just as bulky and armed right-hand men caught him by his shoulders, but all that moving around armed provoked a terrible noise that Thorin wouldn’t have appreciated…

If he hadn’t been too busy being utterly baffled at Fíli’s words.

The idea that Dain’s blood would one day get to the throne of Erebor when Dain himself had refused to help reconquering the kingdom from the dragon… Thorin had been one hair close to loudly protesting against it.

But then Kíli had interrupted the solemn ceremony, before Thorin himself could utter a word, and he had very candidly asked, uncle, would you rather we try and have a child with the only female partner we intend to take? Because, we can try, but, even if nature allows it, it would be half elf.

Thorin had almost had a stroke.

Dain had gaped, as well as half the dwarves present. Curiously enough, only among the dwarves who had taken part to the original quest of reconquering Erebor not a single surprised expression appeared. Actually, they were suddenly found busy with a ripple of shoulders turning and hands being extended and coins being traded around.

Bilbo burst out laughing, muttering to Nori not to leave him out.

Gandalf, his back to Thorin, mouthed to the thief that he knew he should expect money as well, so don’t you dare try and steal my money you master thief.

The men hadn’t reacted in a particular way. Some were surprised, some interested, some smiled, amused. The voice of a child was heard in the relative silence, pure, silver-like voice asking, dad, can a elf and a dwarf have a child? And a man muttering back, maybe if it’s two dwarves, they can.

More laughter had followed, especially among the elves, whose ears had always been too sensitive for their own good, especially when the gossip called.

Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, stood in the precise spot the tradition assigned them, their robes perfect and hair immaculate, tried to smother the fits of laughter that threatened to shake their shoulders. Poor Gandalf found it quite difficult, to keep a straight face with those two bastards almost laughing in his face, and Fíli and Kíli smiling at him and Thorin as the picture of innocence.

Slightly behind the third elven king, Tauriel’s face had gone and interesting, bright shade of red, her deep, green eyes thundering in Kíli’s direction and perfectly rendering her thoughts of ‘what the fuck are you doing, we agreed we weren’t going to out my relationship with you and your brother like this and you just did it in front of literally fucking anyone??’

At her right side, Legolas was busy trying not to choke swallowing his laughter, and imitating as close as possible the absolutely stone-cold, rigid expression of his father, in front of them.

“I beg you not to let them try, Thorin Oakenshield” Thranduil, prim and perfect and slightly pissed, commented, his always regale, elegant and distant posture just as perfect as ever.

So, Thorin became rightfully king, with Fíli as heir, and after Fíli the throne was supposed to get to Dain.

Xxxx

After the ceremony, Fíli and Kíli focused on healing. Fíli had, after all, still to face the consequences of having had all the major bones in his body shattered and miraculously re-stitched together. He couldn’t walk long distances, in some days he couldn’t walk period, and had to rely on the ever-constant presence of Kíli and Tauriel to even take the steps that led from their shared quarters to the main hall where Thorin worked his royal duties.

Kíli, on his side, wasn’t faring much better, but his weren’t wounds of the bodies, that he had to face. Having been touched by an evil, dark force like the one of the Necromancer, his heart would often ache, and he could become restless, skittish, waking up in terrors from nightmares that he wasn’t sure it was the future, the past, or the outcomes of unmade choices that would never threaten them.

He lied a lot to many, hiding these shadows that lingered in his soul. Not wanting to worry those who could not help him, he only talked openly about it to Gandalf, Fíli and Tauriel. The wizard once explained it was the inevitable consequence of the bite he had received from Khim, and the poison it had spread into his body.

With Fíli and Tauriel, though, he pulled through even the darkest day.

Xxxx

Thorin didn’t marry. Nobody complained: the line was already secured, and he wasn’t the first king who hadn’t found a dwarven spouse. He might have been the first one considering picking a male, hobbit one, but apparently he was talked by the very hobbit he had proposed to, and be told, really Thorin, let’s be sensible about this, I’m a gardener, remember? I cannot marry a king. I will come and water your plants and take care of that garden, though. That’s what gardeners do, after all.

So Bilbo Baggins left and went back to the Shire, accompanied along the way by Gandalf the Grey. It took him a long time before he could make it to come back, and when he did, he had a small bundle of hobbit babe with him (no Thorin don’t be absurd, of course he’s not yours, he’s a hobbit! He’s my nephew, Frodo. He’s just lost his parents in a terrible accident, I didn’t want to leave him behind while I was here).

Legolas and Tauriel had a short, tempered conversation at the end of which she stomped her foot and he threw his hands in the air in frustration, claiming that fine, if you want to be the first elf to not only fuck one dwarf but two, be my guest, I won’t stop you, just don’t tell me I don’t understand because I don’t think I could ever see anything but hairs and rudeness in a dwarf.

Little spoiler from the future? One day he would regret those words.

But, back to our point. Tauriel blushed, hugged him, and went to live with the dwarven princes.

Legolas spent some time in Dale, where Bard the Bargeman had been promoted from Bargeman to King. He helped the newly elected king rebuilding the city, giving him some tips and mainly taking care of securing the borders. He didn’t know much on how a kingdom should be administered, but he knew a lot on how to defend it.

He did not, however, know how to deal with the fact that it became more and more clear that Bard, king of Dale, whenever he looked at Legolas would think of the superb, incomparable beauty of his father Thranduil, and there were only so many times Legolas’ heart could take the blow, clench and not break. One day, when Bard was already grey and old, he vanished. Bard’s eldest daughter Sigrid was already queen. She didn’t worry at the sudden disappearance of what had been her father’s main counselor and had now become hers.

Thranduil, maybe knowing this, maybe not (Legolas was pretty sure his father had always known the influence he had had on the human, just ignored it for the sake of his own son, and didn’t that sting just more?), suggested that Legolas went to the Dunedains and looked for a man called Strider.

Legolas wondered if his father had really known the man’s real name and chosen not to tell him, or if he had simply forgotten.

He met the guy, and he found out he was pretty cool, and after some initial friction they became very good friends. But that’s another story, and we don’t want to fall through that rabbit hole, do we.

Xxxx

The sun shone, bleeding red in the sky over the plain that lay in front of the gates of Erebor, kingdom under the mountain.

The last rays of the sun, bringing the last warmth of the day, just like any other autumn day, shining over the greens that covered the gentle sloping hills behind the dwarven kingdom, as well as the garden that adorned one of it side. 

On top of the highest hill, three bodies lay, in different state of undress and different stage of the process of lying down. They were hidden by any foreign eyes, only visible to someone who knew where to look and what to find. 

Tauriel sat, bending her knees to her naked chest, her feet kept apart by Kíli's body, sprawled on his back between her legs. 

She looked far in the distance, now at the sun, now at the green hills or the plain where the battle of the five armies had once taken place. 

There was nostalgia in her heart, sometimes, and some others there was an inexplicable uneasiness, a sense of alert that she could not interpret, whose source she could not pinpoint. Perhaps a new threat that would rise in the future, she considered, fervently hoping that she, and her lovers, didn't have to face it.

Kíli looked far away in the distance, too, but his unfocused stare spoke loudly of his deep thinking. Though she had not yet mastered the art of understanding what the younger prince thought, and she still had to rely on Fíli to know.

She played with some of his dark strands, and smiled when she felt Fíli, sitting up and splaying his chest against her back. She felt the naked skin of his chest, but when he raised his arms to hug her and to shield her from the breeze, his arms were covered once again by his thick jacket. 

She smiled, turning over her shoulder and intercepting his deep, blue stare. Fíli smiled as well, bent to kiss the tip of her shoulder and moved her long red mane to the side.

"What is my favorite elf thinking?" he murmured, his deep voice rumbling against her body.

She grinded her teeth for a moment, the sound of his voice always getting to her. 

"Just considering the mystery of light" she replied, deciding to favor a cryptic answer instead of a blatant lie.

She smiled innocently, but laughed mischievously when he squinted at her. 

"Oh, Kíli" he sighed, his call instantly snapping his younger brother out of whatever reveries he was caught on.

"Looks like we have to do something, or we will waste the last light of such a beautiful day, waiting for our captain to finish with her mystical, elvish thoughts"

"Well well" Kíli drawled, voice full of mirt and playful: "we certainly can't have that, can we?" 

The younger prince looked up from his spot and rolled on his stomach, smiling at Tauriel and sneaking a hand behind her neck. She went willingly and bent to kiss him, Fíli peppering kisses all along her spine.

She moaned softly when one of Kíli's hand sneaked between her thighs, his thumbs rubbing very close to where she wanted, but not just there. Intentionally so, she knew it.

"Let us distract you, love" Kíli murmured against her lips.

"Oh yes, let us" Fíli echoed, moving back up from her shoulder blades to her neck.

She gasped when Fíli bit her on a spot she had recently found out being particularly sensitive to, and moaned louder when Kíli's thumb moved closer to the right spot.

"Mmmm, what do you have in mind, I wonder?" she tried to feign scarce interest, though she could admit she wasn't really succeeding.

Kíli chuckled and moved back down, replacing his thumb with the tip of his nose, first, and a moment later with his mouth. He kissed her circling his target, then swiped his tongue exactly on the nub that would make her tremble.

She moaned loud, her hands buried in her hair, and looked down at his dark head, feeling his tongue moving. 

Fíli laughed.

"Looks like that was a good idea, Kíli" he commented playfully, only to be roughly pulled by an eager elvish hand, sneaked through his blond strands, and pushed against Tauriel's mouth. 

He kissed her obligingly, too busy to laugh anymore.

Not that he could complain.


End file.
